


Good Things

by fallenandthefaithless (billys_consulting_flatmates)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Canon Typical Violence, Dean POV, Eileen is awesome, Hell, Hurt Dean, M/M, Pining, Souls, True Forms, deancaspinefest, hurt cas, s11 canon divergent, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billys_consulting_flatmates/pseuds/fallenandthefaithless
Summary: It is a fact now known that only one angel may possess a human body at a time, even one rebuilt by God himself. Left in the wreckage of Cas's big 'yes' Dean desperately searches for a way to save his best friend, uncaring of the cost to himself, even if it means burning away his own soul. Because there aren't many things Dean Winchester is sure of but one thing he knows for a fact is that Castiel deserves to be saved.





	Good Things

**Author's Note:**

> Here it finally is! this has been an awesome experience as my first challenge and I've loved every moment of it. The mods have been wonderful. Huge thanks to my beta [Cassie](http://harplesscastiel.tumblr.com/) who a gem and really helped me fine tune this. Another big thanks to my artist [Reanna](http://space-wolf.com/) whose art is truly stunning. She asked me what scenes I most wanted to see as art and though I thought my request was a little difficult she truly delivered. It's everything I could have hoped for.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

The word had been wrenched from his lips, falling out into the air through clenched teeth, the taste of copper filling the emptiness the word had left behind in his mouth.

A moment later the pain of that word was forgotten as an agony of another kind tore along every nerve, lancing through him and sparking before his eyes. A bright flash of light almost blinded him and he closed his eyes in an all too human attempt to save his sight. For the space of a breath the aching appendages of torn and brittle wings almost pulled him to the ground.

And then there was a weight pressing in on him. A blinding, shifting, sharp weight that pushed itself under his skin, creeping along his veins and stretching into the spaces of his fingers and toes. Those same fingers and toes were torn from him as the blinding, cold light forced him out, out into the open, his wings dragging upon the ground, their fragile, broken ends brushing cold bars as he tried to look around. Only a few eyes remained on him, so many blind or missing but then he saw them, crouched in the corner opposite him, holding onto one another with their eyes closed against the glare. He only had long enough to confirm that while both were injured they were only minor wounds, before he was ripped away, his body shifting through the air, the cold edges of the spell dragging harshly along his wings. The sudden pulling and twisting ended abruptly and he found himself surrounded by cold, rough walls. The air seemed to dig in at every inch of his exposed form and he fell to the ground, curling in on himself, trying to protect the warmth pulsing in his middle.

He was not alone, however. A mass was curled in another corner, rocking its form back and forth and murmuring in a tongue he had not heard for over a year. The creature was a twisted, broken thing, none of its former glory remaining.

The true horror was the thing that lay beside the shaking mass. Ripped to shreds to the point where it was almost unrecognisable, it didn’t move from where it lay, flayed open and burned in the open air. The taste of ash was heavy in the air and he curled in even smaller, the quivering warmth in his centre recoiling from the sight of the broken soul.

Outside of the rough walls the sound of thunder could be heard, bright flashes of lightning illuminating the enclosed space for brief seconds, hours, days. Time was fluid down here in a way it never was on Earth.

Another flash of lightning slipped through the gaps in the walls and Michael whimpered, his grace flickering murkily before fading once more. Adam’s soul, exposed in the air without its missing body, was motionless.

Cas brought his wings up to wrap around himself as another feather fell away, burnt and twisted as it slipped through the cracks of the Cage.

 

‘You think he’ll be okay?’

Sam’s voice broke the silence that had fallen over the car since Dean had gotten in the front seat. Dean startled, his fingers clenched tightly around the wheel, the leather creaking for a moment before he relaxed.

He glanced up into the rearview mirror before he could stop himself, despite knowing that the backseat was empty and that the figure standing in the shadows by the road was long gone.

He remained silent, long enough for Sam to look over at him again and Dean gritted his teeth, knowing that he had to say something, anything that could ease the concern he could feel rolling off Sam. He shouldn’t be worrying about anyone but himself. Not Dean, not Cas.

‘He’ll be fine – he always is,’ he said, his voice rough, the words catching in his throat for a moment before escaping him. Dean didn’t want to think on it too much, didn’t want to think about why Cas didn’t join them or about when he’d see him again. It felt to Dean as if he hadn’t seen Cas properly for years. But it wasn’t time for dwelling on that. Sam was hurt, even if he wouldn’t admit to it. Sammy needed him, so Dean would shut down the voice in the back of his mind that was screaming at him to turn the car around and drag Cas into the backseat, to call him and demand he come home right now so Dean could lock them all in the bunker so Sammy could get better and Cas would be there and Dean wouldn’t have to worry about either of them.

‘But why didn’t he come with us? I mean, Lucifer knocked him around pretty badly in there,’ Sam continued before Dean cut him off.

‘How am I supposed to know? It’s Cas – he does what he wants and rarely sticks around anyway,’ he snapped, trying to ignore the churning of his stomach at the memory of Cas, bloodied and thrown against the cage bars. ‘He’ll contact us when he feels like it.’

He could feel Sam looking at him, his brows furrowed before he turned to look out the window. Dean relaxed his grip on the wheel a fraction and reached out to flick the radio on, allowing Robert Plant’s voice to wash over him. 

Dean managed another five hours behind the wheel before he began to struggle keeping his eyes open. The aches echoing across his body grew to be too much and the possibility of wrapping his baby around a tree was becoming more and more likely so, reluctantly, Dean turned off the highway to find a motel to crash in for the night. The idea of stopping grated on his nerves but Dean knew it was better than the alternative.

Sam barely mumbled as they staggered from the car to the office to their room, Dean’s own mouth remaining firmly shut aside from asking for the room from the half-asleep attendant. Sam was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow but Dean found himself lying awake for another hour or so, listening to the few cars outside rumble past, his phone remaining on the bedside table, within sight.

It took another fifteen hours for them to reach the bunker the next day. The radio played so loudly that Sam was unable to begin a conversation though Dean could feel him looking over at Dean several times before he drifted off to sleep again. His phone weighed heavily in his jeans pocket, burning into his leg.

It was almost midnight when they arrived and Dean gently closed the trunk after grabbing their bags, but even that was enough to jerk Sam awake, his head knocking against the window.

‘C’mon sleeping beauty,’ he said as Sam slowly got out of the car, the forced smile on his face felt like it was cracking his skin open. Sam shot him a half-hearted glare as they made their way across the garage before leading the way into the bunker. Dean could feel his smile fall away immediately.

‘What time is it?’ Sam asked, a yawn almost strangling his question, as they reached his room.

‘Late,’ Dean grunted and Sam yawned again.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna go sleep some more,’ he mumbled and Dean watched as he stumbled into his room, not even bothering to close the door or even take off his shoes before he collapsed on top of his bed. Dean shook his head as he shut the door and headed off for his own room.

Once changed he grabbed both bags and his dirty clothing and headed for the laundry room. Despite the fact that they were home he couldn’t find it within himself to go to bed just yet, no matter how tired his body was. He loaded up the washing machine and waited for it to come to life, the water rushing and gurgling through pipes to fill it.

He could easily head to bed now, leave the machine to run while he slept and he could deal with it all when he woke. His aching body certainly felt like it agreed with that idea.

Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and leant against the wall, thumbing the phone awake as he did so. Miraculously the screen hadn’t been damaged during the fight; a rarity these days. He automatically flicked open his contacts and let his thumb hover over the familiar name before he finally pressed down, harder than necessary.

Bringing the phone up to his ear he listened as it began to ring – and kept ringing, his shoulders slumping when a pre-recorded message reached him.

‘Hey Cas, just checking in. Uh – Sammy’s alright…’ Dean closed his eyes and sighed, listening to the emptiness at the end of the line. ‘Just – keep us updated…’ He was silent for too long, his tongue heavy and awkward in his mouth and his mind a mess of words he couldn’t convey and before he knew it the machine had cut him off.

He let his head rest against the wall for a moment before he flicked off the light and headed for his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him and he waited for a moment, listening out to see if he’d disturbed Sam but only silence met his ears.

He crossed the room, plugging his phone in to charge before he lay down. His body was exhausted and his mattress unbelievably comfortable after sitting in Baby for hours on end but still he lay with his eyes open, staring at his ceiling, unwilling to admit – even to himself – that he was waiting for an artificial light to disturb the darkness.

It was to a still dark room that Dean’s eyes finally slid shut.

 

‘Any word from Cas?’

Dean looked over at Sam sitting at the kitchen table, laptop in front of him, a mug half full of coffee by his hand.

‘Hey,’ Dean mumbled before detouring to the coffee machine. He didn’t speak again until he’d poured himself a mug and had a few mouthfuls. ‘No. Nothing.’

‘Should we be worried?’ Sam frowned as Dean sat down across from him.

‘He’ll be fine. Probably already off searching for ways to stop Amara.’

‘That’s another thing – how’s he getting anywhere? I didn’t see his car when we left?’

Dean paused at that and frowned himself. ‘I don’t think his car was there. Amara zapped him to Crowley’s.’

‘How was he getting… anywhere, then?’ Sam closed his laptop, his frown becoming more pronounced. His face was pale and despite the fact that Dean had seen him drop off instantly last night there were still shadows under his eyes. Guilt made Dean’s stomach clench and any trace of appetite he’d possessed vanished in the face of Sam’s hurt. He’d told himself just yesterday that he had to focus on Sam and Sam alone. Cas would have to wait. He was an angel. He’d be fine.

‘Cas is a big boy. He can handle it himself,’ Dean said and eyed Sam’s mug. ‘Have you eaten at all?’

‘Uh, wasn’t hungry,’ he said, forcing a smile and Dean frowned at him.

‘And are you…’ he gestured at Sam who looked at him in confusion for a moment before his face cleared.

‘I’m fine, Dean. Or… I will be. Just need a few days.’

‘Don’t we all,’ Dean muttered as he got to his feet. ‘Pancakes in that case? Side of bacon.’

‘Keep the bacon but I’ll take some pancakes,’ Sam smiled and Dean felt his stomach unclench a notch.

‘How dare you?’ he grumbled, making sure Sam couldn’t see his smile as he turned away. The kitchen was quiet for a few minutes, filled only with the soft noises of Sam clicking away at his laptop and Dean setting up frying pans and cracking some eggs into a bowl.

‘No sign of Amara since the angel smiting,’ Sam said and Dean’s stomach twisted at her name. The smell of the pancake mix now cooking in one of the pans no longer smelt tempting. ‘Do you think it could have injured her – not killed her, obviously, but enough to weaken her for a while?’

‘I don’t know, man,’ Dean sighed, his eyes closed as he leant against the bench. ‘Cas went to check but we didn’t exactly have time to chat about how she was.’

‘Maybe we should call him,’ Sam suggested a little warily and Dean straightened. He thought of his phone, tucked away in his pocket, but he couldn’t leave the room, not with the food almost done and the idea of calling Cas with Sam watching felt wrong.

‘I’ll call him later,’ he grumbled before flicking off the stove. ‘Let’s eat.’

He dropped a plate next to Sam’s laptop, piled high with pancakes before he grabbed his own plate and the syrup. Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t complain at the ridiculous amount Dean poured on his own pancakes. He flashed a smile at his brother despite his roiling stomach and forced himself to eat.

It was only after Sam had left the kitchen that Dean pushed his still half full plate away and pulled out his phone. The screen was empty of notifications. He quickly glanced over his shoulder before thumbing through to Cas’s name once more.

‘C’mon Cas. Pick up,’ he muttered and bit off a curse when it went through to voicemail again. ‘Cas, it’s been two days – call me back…’

He hung up before the machine could cut him off and glared at his plate before getting up to dump the remains of his breakfast in the bin. He quickly washed the dishes in the sink, his hands burning in the hot water, before he checked his phone again.

No new notifications.

It remained that way for several days. Dean continued to call Cas before he went to sleep every night, away from prying eyes and ears, each message growing more and more frustrated and short. Where the hell was he? Had he been more hurt than he’d let on? Dean had thought he’d be okay, that he’d bounce back like he always did. Sam was the one Dean had to worry about.

Five days in the bunker had Dean almost climbing the walls. There were only so many beer runs a man could make before it started to look bad. With no word from Cas and Sam fieldstripping his guns over and over Dean desperately began searching for a case nearby. He needed to get out and Sam needed to as well. He could see his brother slipping, whatever nightmares that had been brought back were eating away at him and the need to look after Sammy was too strong to ignore. A case would help them regain their footing and clear their heads.

For once the universe didn’t appear to be cursing them and Dean quickly found a case nearby, something at a retirement village. Sam had grudgingly accepted that Dean was right and reluctantly followed him out to the garage. Baby purred as she ate up the road, Dean pushing her above the speed limit as an apology for being locked away for almost a full week. He could feel Sam eyeing him from the passenger seat but Dean ignored him, enjoying the rush of being back on the road too much. The only thing that could dampen his spirit was the heavy reminder of Cas’s silence in his pocket.

The case was going smoothly and Dean could see Sam regaining his confidence with every moment. Dean was content for that reason alone to take a step back and let Sam lead more on this one, even if he could feel that permanent worry at the back of his mind over his comments on his retirement or the lack of it. Despite not really knowing if there was any chance for him he couldn’t help but let himself hope for that, every now and then and the idea that Sam had given up was almost too much. 

Dean was so pleased to be back on the job that he managed to forget about Cas for a while and the lack of response to his calls. His phone felt lighter than it had in days and he only stopped to check a couple of times before slipping it back into his pocket.

Sam’s comments as they burned the body brought it all back faster than Dean had wanted. Despite his own reassurances, Dean couldn’t help but keep an eye on Sam as they left the cemetery. While Sam not believing in retirement hurt, the idea that his brother was having nightmares of Lucifer again took precedent. The last time something like this had been happening it had taken Cas to fix the problem and now Cas wasn’t answering Dean’s calls or messages and had pretty much dropped off the face of the earth.

Back at the retirement village the next morning, Dean watched as his brother led by asking Mildred questions, even if she answered while facing Dean most of the time. He could feel his brothers amused glance every now and then but Dean only nodded for Mildred to continue. It wasn’t until Sam stepped away and she stopped Dean that he felt anything other than amusement at her actions. Whilst Sam escaped Dean turned back to smile at her with a slight feeling of dread. His gaze still drifted to Sam even as his hand reached down and pulled out his phone again, the screen still empty of notifications. Mildred had moved away and Dean felt no guilt into thumbing open to his message threads and quickly shooting off another message to Cas.

Sam was talking to one of the staff members, a woman with dark hair pulled up in a bun who was smiling at whatever it was Sam had said or done. It took Dean a moment to realise Sam was smiling back, looking down slightly as he chuckled, but when he did his shoulders relaxed slightly and his worry eased a fraction. He glanced back down at his phone. Still no response.

He slipped his phone away when he saw Sam making his way over to him and he nodded in the direction of the woman. ‘Witness?’

‘Ah, no,’ Sam said and Dean couldn’t help but note his brother’s quick smile before he pulled himself back to the job. ‘Okay. So, apparently, not a ghost.’

Pushing aside that thought for a moment, though not without casting a quick glance over at the woman who was now folding towels, Dean turned back to what Sam was saying. After a quick call to the coroner Dean’s theory was confirmed which he then explained to Sam.

‘They only prey on the vulnerable,’ he finished off and Sam nodded. Dean could almost see him shelving away every scrap of information on banshees he’d just learnt in his mind.

‘Harold did just have hip replacement surgery,’ he said slowly, putting the pieces together.

‘And Arthur’s wife just left him,’ Dean explained. ‘Heart broken.’

A faint buzz from his pocket made Dean pause but he forced himself to keep talking to Sam even as his hand itched to reach into his pocket. It wasn’t until he was walking to the Impala alone that he allowed himself to pull his phone out. He ignored the sudden flash of frustration at the sight of Jody’s name. His hand clenched tightly around the phone for a moment, long enough for the screen to black-out and instead of throwing it against the ground he shoved it back into his pocket and got into the car. He forced his thoughts back to the case. Cas clearly didn’t want to talk, didn’t need help or hi - them. Gold blade. That’s what he’d focus on. Gold daggers. He knew there were a couple in the bunker. A quick trip there and back. Kill this bastard, maybe see what was up with that staff member and Sam and then… find another case. Or something on  _ her _ .

The library was a mess. 

That had been the first clue that something was wrong. There were books scattered across the tables, notes pulled out of folders and spread out everywhere, other binders had been tossed onto the floor, their contents slipping out and covering the ground in aged paper.

All thoughts of finding that gold dagger immediately fled Dean’s mind as he reaches for his gun instead. A sound caught his attention and then he was off as the clattering noise became louder. He slowed down as he reached the corridor from which the noise was coming from. One of the doors stood open and from inside the room Dean could hear what sounded like a draw being slammed shut and another pulled open. He raised his gun and kicked the door open wider before moving in and froze.

‘Cas? What the hell are you doing, man?’

Now? After days of silence and now Cas was here? Why hadn’t he answered Dean’s messages – especially if he was in the area. Cas was standing facing the other side of the room and something chilled in Dean at Cas’ lack of response, how he didn’t turn around to face Dean and fix those blue eyes on Dean’s face.

‘Hello, Dean.’

As quickly as it had come the cold vanished in the wake of that voice and his frustration quickly bubbled up once more, filling his chest as he lowered his gun and glanced around the half-destroyed room.

‘Right, yeah,’ he shook his head as he took a step further into the room. ‘We don’t hear from you for days, you show up, you start wrecking the joint.’

And then Cas sighed and Dean frowned. Whilst Cas was one of the few people Dean would let talk back to him or even one of the few who dared tried in the first place, he never was condescending.

‘I’m sorry.’

Dean stops and can’t help but stare at Cas’s back for a moment. He then realised he was still holding his gun and quickly flicked the safety on and tucked it away.

‘Okay, W-what are you doing?’ He went to say more because the space between them suddenly felt too large and too cold, everything about this felt too cold and he couldn’t help but feel that he should have grabbed Cas and dragged him into the car after Sam and taken them both back to the bunker instead of leaving Cas standing there on the side of the road. Before he could say anything, though what he had no idea, Cas turned around to face him and that was when Dean realised that he wasn’t wearing that crappy coat or his suit jacket. Instead he was wearing only his shirt, the sleeves rolled up his arms, exposing his tan forearms, and any hope Dean had of saying anything halfway intelligent vanished. He’d never seen Cas so exposed. Well, that was a lie but he struggled to think about  _ that _ Cas and  _ that _ world and blue eyes taken over by pupils dilated by drugs and pain. The only other time he could remember was another time he tried to forget for different reasons. So close and vulnerable, only a white shirt, buttons undone and those blue eyes turned on him, the space between them far too small. He forced his gaze up to Cas’s face when the angel began to speak, though it took a moment before his words made sense to Dean.

‘I’m… looking for a spell, something to draw Amara out, but there’s… there’s nothing. I had her in my sights. She was hurt. I should have ended it,’ he said and Dean blinked. Amara’s name jarred him out of his thoughts, something echoing inside him at the mention of her. He found himself moving closer to Cas without meaning to and he honestly didn’t know which part of him was making that decision.

‘Wait,’ he said slowly. ‘What? How?’

Cas sighed as he moved closer, his hands clenching around the papers he still held. ‘I don’t know. But there has to be something. And how many more chances are we gonna get?’

‘Yeah,’ Dean couldn’t stop the sigh from escaping him. ‘I know. Saying you’re gonna kill is one thing but…’ his stomach twisted as he remembered the weight of the blade in his hand, shattering immediately upon impact along with any shred of control he had over his thoughts. ‘Actually doing it is something totally different.’ Cas frowned at him from where he stood still, his head tilted slightly in a way that was painfully familiar even as his eyes considered Dean with an almost calculating light. Dean swallowed to clear his throat as Cas spoke.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve had two shots at Amara.’ Her name almost caught in his throat but he forced it out, even when the weight of those eyes staring at him felt like too much. ‘I struck out both times.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Cas’s frown had deepened as he slowly stepped closer to Dean, the papers in his hand put to the side as he focused on Dean. Dean couldn’t meet Cas’s gaze for much longer, falling away instead to stare at his loosened tie.

‘I… I don’t even know where to start.’

‘Dean…’ Cas’s voice had softened to something that seemed to gently reach in and unravel the tightness of Dean’s chest, allowing his lungs to finally take a deeper breath and he slowly looked up to meet Cas’s eyes. ‘Tell me everything.’

Dean opened his mouth slightly, unable to look away from the intensity of Cas’s gaze. He finally turned away and spotted the gold blade he’d originally driven here for and slowly walked to it, his voice quietly breaking the stretched silence between them. He couldn’t face Cas while talking about this, couldn’t stare at Cas’s eyes as he spoke about her.

‘I tried to kill her.’

He could hear Cas moving around behind him and some part of him was grateful that Cas wasn’t staring at him anymore but another part desperately wanted Cas to follow after him and force Dean to look at him.

‘Well, you two are connected somehow by the Mark,’ he said, his voice steady and Dean felt his stomach twist as he forced himself to keep talking. Revulsion crawled over his skin and he bent his head over the box that was next to the gold blade.

‘Yeah, no… it’s, uh… it’s more than that.’ He waited in silence, his heart pounding, as he listened to Cas’s movements slow as he turned back to Dean.

‘Attraction?’

Cas actually voicing the phrase Dean had been unwilling to put to that empty longing, the echoing spaces where she should be caused his stomach to clench and Dean turned to look at Cas who had turned to face him completely. Cas’s nonchalant, almost thoughtful tone, caused something else in Dean to clench though he refused to think about that now, focusing more on Cas’s frown as he stared at Dean as though waiting for Dean to dispute his statement. When Dean didn’t Cas’s eyes widened and he shook his head slightly, in what almost appeared to be exasperation and Dean found he couldn’t look at him anymore, not with the twisting feelings inside of him and the look on Cas’s face as he said Dean’s name.

‘I know,’ he said quietly instead, still looking down. He reached down and picked up the gold blade and the bundle he assumed was hiding the other blades. ‘I know, okay. Whatever it is… a… attraction, connection… I got to tell you, man, it scares me. I don’t know that I can stop it. I don’t know that I can resist it.’ He swallowed and continued to look down until he felt a weight settle on his right shoulder and he glanced up to see Cas was resting his hand there, squeezing reassuringly. The weight felt odd but Dean couldn’t think as to why as Cas watched him, a gentle expression on his face even as his eyes appeared harder than what Dean was expecting. 

‘Hey, it scares me, too. But we will find out what this it, I promise,’ he said and while Dean wanted to be comforted by this, this idea that Cas would help him, that the weight of Amara wasn’t resting on him alone, there was something cold unfurling inside Dean’s chest as he stared into those blue eyes. ‘In the end, it may help draw her out. This could be a good thing.’ Dean stared, his brows drawing together. Cas watched Dean curiously, eyes cold, as if he presented an interesting idea rather than a bone deep fear. That coldness in Dean’s gut seemed to grow, spreading throughout his body as the weight of Cas’s hand on his shoulder pressed down through his clothing, leaving a chill to emanate through Dean’s skin. Dean’s stomach sank as he stared into those eyes, lacking all warmth and pain and affection that he was so used to seeing, only seeing coldness and something that made him want to lurch away from his best friends side. Except, it wasn’t his best friend. From the rolled-up shirt sleeves showing forearms that Cas had never exposed before, to the swift, sure movements rather than Cas’s gentle, careful steps of now. This thing wearing Cas’s face wasn’t the angel.

If it wasn’t Cas who was here, then who could possibly be here, wearing this face, watching Dean with those eyes, and expecting him to fall for it. Could Cas even be possessed? And if so then who…

‘Dean?’ that voice broke through his thoughts and he looked at him, feeling slightly wild as his heart pounded and his stomach roiled. Everything felt cold, as if a ghost had entered the room. A ghost Dean had thought he’d seen the last of in Stull. ‘Are you going to get that?’

It was only then that he realised that his phone was ringing. His phone which had been empty of messages ever since he’d left Cas standing on the side of a road in the dark. Cas who always responded, even when they’d disagreed. He’d at least send Dean a single emoji to let Dean know he was okay, that he was still there, that he hadn’t left.

‘No,’ he said softly and Ca-  _ he _ frowned at Dean. 

‘Dean? It could be Sam,’ the voice was so close to being right. The concern, the warmth was all an act though and the knowledge that despite the familiar features being so close, Cas was further away from him than ever left Dean struggling to breathe.

‘What did you do to him?’ 

He stared at Dean, frowning in confusion until Dean jerked backwards, trying to free himself from his grip when the familiar face contorted into a smirk and his grip tightened on Dean’s shoulder and yanked him forward.

‘And I thought I was doing so well,’ he said and the voice had risen, leaving the comforting rumble of Cas’s voice behind. His grip on Dean tightened until Dean was forced to the floor, his hands let go of the useless blades and flew up to his shoulder in an attempt to pry his fingers away. Pain radiated from his shoulder and Dean looked up to see Lucifer grinning down at him as a sudden wave of hopelessness washed over him. ‘Oh well,’ he said and threw Dean backward so he crashed hard onto the ground.

‘How?’ Dean gasped out and Lucifer laughed.

‘How? Well I am an Angel, Dean. How do you think?’ he smirked and Dean felt something cold grab a hold of his heart.

‘No,’ he said, horror choking his throat and leaving his voice cracking.

‘Oh, yes,’ Lucifer practically purred as he stepped forward, putting his foot on Dean’s chest to stop him from getting back to his feet. 

‘He wouldn’t,’ Dean argued, gasping around the pressure on his chest, from both Lucifer’s foot and the despair at what must have happened, despite his denial. 

‘I beg to differ considering,’ Lucifer trailed off, gesturing to his body – his  _ stolen _ body – as he spoke. ‘It can’t be that much of a surprise, I mean, really Dean. You didn’t see this coming at all?’

Dean couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but he continued to glare up at the monster who laughed at him.

‘Why  _ wouldn’t _ he say yes, hmm? I mean, what was so worth sticking around for?’ The pain increased in Dean’s chest with every word Lucifer said. Dean felt frozen in place, the horror of what Cas had done enough to pin him in place without Lucifer’s added weight. ‘You and your brother? The supposed friends? I barely had a glimpse into his pathetic and weak mind but that was enough. And I mean, wow, I thought I was bad when it came to friends but you and your brother?’ he let out a low whistling noise and shook his head. ‘No wonder he was so desperate to leave you two behind. I mean, who likes being treated like a tool and thrown away when they’re not of use. This is the Castiel who fell for you after all.’

Horror wasn’t enough to describe what Dean felt anymore. The cold waves of terror lapped at his body and flooded his system. His lungs were full of ice and his throat clogged. He didn’t even realise that the pain in his chest wasn’t from Lucifer anymore until Lucifer knelt beside him, no longer touching Dean at all. Dean still couldn’t breathe.

‘I could finish this now,’ he said softly and Dean’s gaze was fixed on those blue eyes. He’d never truly appreciated how much they’d softened over the years until now. ‘It’s not like we can work together now, really. And there’s no one here to stop me. Sam would never know. Certainly that angel toy of yours is too far away to ever help again.’

Dean jerked upright but Lucifer’s hand returned to his shoulder and forced him back down against the ground. This time, however, Dean struggled. Cas couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t be. Lucifer’s laughter made Dean look back at him, hatred replacing the icy fear inside.

‘You didn’t think he was still here, did you? Oh Dean. Castiel is long gone. You’ll never find him now.’

The words, softly spoken, drove daggers into Dean’s chest. He couldn’t breathe through the pain anymore and just as his vision started to darken around the edges, it eased up. He rolled to his side, coughing and gasping for breath as he looked around for Lucifer, his eyes watering, blurring his vision. All he could make out was a looming tan figure. The sight that had filled him with relief only a few days ago now had fear and hatred burning through his veins.

‘I’d love to finish you now,’ he said softly from above Dean. ‘But that bond you have with Amara, well, that could come in handy. Now, as fun as this has been, I really must be off. Darkness to hunt and kill, yada yada. You know the drill.’

His footsteps echoed throughout the room as he walked away and Dean remained where he was on the ground, unable to find the strength to even lift his head and ensure Lucifer did in fact leave and was not screwing with him. The slam of the bunker’s door rang out and Dean shuddered, his breathing slowly evening out though it took him another couple of minutes before he reached down for his phone.

There was a missed call from Sam and several messages that he ignored as he hit Sam’s name. It rang only twice before Sam answered, his voice loud after Lucifer’s soft whispers.

‘Finally – did you get my messages? Dean?’ his voice rose with panic as Dean struggled to find words to relay what had just happened to Sam. He couldn’t even remember why he was at the bunker.

‘Sam,’ he said, his voice croaky and Sam immediately fell silent. ‘We have a problem.’

 

‘What do we do then?’ Sam said, his face blank, whether from shock or to hide his real thoughts Dean couldn’t tell. His own emotions were a mess, tangled up together to create a chafing, thorny mess. He stared at the wheel in front of him, for once finding no peace in the Impala. Sam sat beside him, staring out the window as he tried to take it all in.

‘How did we miss that?’ he said softly, voicing the thought that had been tearing around Dean’s mind for the past hour.

‘I don’t know,’ he croaked. Sam seemed to startle at hearing Dean speak again. He’d been unable to say anything since he’d finished telling Sam what had happened at the bunker. The gold blades were thrown on the backseat, his mobile tucked into his pants pocket but aside from that, Dean couldn’t remember much else. He could only focus on those cold blue eyes sneering at him in his mind.

‘We’ll figure this out,’ Sam said, nodding as he spoke as if determined to convince Dean. ‘We always do.’

‘And we thought Cas would be fine because he always was,’ Dean snapped. 

‘Dean. Cas knew what he was doing –’

‘Did he? ’Cause from where I’m sitting, he’s left us a huge fucking mess.’ He could barely get all the words out. His stomach was churning so badly he thought he was going to be sick all over the dashboard. His skin felt too tight, and his head was dizzy with panic.

‘That’s not fair,’ Sam said softly after a moment. So softly Dean almost missed what he said. When he realised what Sam meant he deflated, resting his forehead against the wheel and focused on breathing through his nose. Sam shuffled in his seat as he turned to face Dean but said nothing. There was no sound from the backseat.

‘That stupid son of a bitch,’ he grumbled under his breath and Sam let out a high, breathy laugh, too short and wet to be normal and Dean had to get out, the Impala suddenly too confining.

His legs felt too weak to hold him as he climbed out of the car and stood on the nature strip. He heard Sam get out behind him, the backdoor opening and then closing again. Dean closed his eyes and breathed until he felt like he could walk. They had to finish this job and then…

And then he’d save Cas.

The brunette staff member from earlier or, now Eileen, as Sam had informed him, was waiting for them in Mildred’s room. She glanced between the two, but Dean saw Sam shake his head slightly before he brought out the gold daggers.

‘Alright,’ he said as he sat down. Eileen sat down next to him, watching him intently and normally Dean would have smiled at that but all he could do now was sit and hope that Sammy was okay with taking the reins on this. He could feel Mildred look over at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.

‘First, Eileen that’s Dean. Dean, this is Eileen Leahy – her father was a Men of Letters,’ Sam explained, and he nodded at her. She smiled a little but didn’t say anything. ‘We’ll set the trap in here. We need to block off the room somehow so no one else’ll come in –’

‘Close the room for cleaning,’ Eileen interjected and Sam turned to look at her head on. ‘Just put the cart out there and no one should come looking.’

‘Good, that’s great,’ he smiled and she nodded and went to stand up but Dean beat her to it.

‘I’ll grab it,’ he said. ‘You need to show Sammy how to paint that trap.’

Eileen nodded but also frowned a little at him before turning back to Sam, her expression becoming open and expectant.

He left without another word, needing to get out of the room, away from the others who kept looking at him. He felt like the churning mess inside him that was twisting up his lungs was painted across his face and everyone could see. 

He found the cart easily but was slow to drag it into place. He pulled the sign out and set it up and lingered in the hall. He couldn’t hear any talking on the other side of the door and instead of re-entering, he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment.  _ You’ll never find him now. _

He jerked away from the wall and pushed the door open and quickly strode in. Sam shot him a look from where he was painting the trap under Eileen’s direction, her voice soft as she spoke to him. Mildred was in the kitchen and Dean found himself moving across the room to the window, ignoring the rest of the room until he felt someone nudge his side. He looked around to find Mildred standing there, one eyebrow raised and a cup of tea held out to him.

‘I don’t know if you’re a tea-drinker but I’ve always found it helps calm my nerves,’ she said and he accepted the mug without thinking. No matter what he’d claimed to Sam, tea didn’t disgust him that much even if his lifestyle had made him far more dependent on coffee. They stood in silence; the only sound was the soft voices of Sam and Eileen behind Dean.

‘Come here, Agent,’ Mildred said suddenly, looping her arm through his and pulling him towards the sofa facing the window. ‘I want to show you something.’ Dean shot Sam a look over his shoulder but found his brother was still deep in conversation with Eileen and didn’t even look over. Mildred slipped her arm free and sat down before turning to look up at Dean who was standing awkwardly, mug of tea still in hand. She smiled at him and patted the seat next to her.

‘Well, come on. I’m not going to bite. Never was my thing,’ she chuckled, and Dean relaxed a little. He slowly sat down next to her and tried not to jump when she shuffled closer. Dean glanced at the window, the setting sun visible through the glass and tuned back in to catch the end of what Mildred was saying.

‘…you got to pay for the view.’

‘Not bad,’ Dean commented, without a hint of a lie. If there was one drawback to the bunker it was the lack of windows. You could never tell the time without a watch and you missed out on great views.

‘Not bad? Honey, it’s almost as gorgeous as you are,’ she turned to look at him, a huge smile on her face and Dean didn’t fake his chuckle this time. His true amusement still didn’t stop him for glancing over to Sam to see if his brother would extricate him from the situation. Amusement sat oddly in him at the moment. Like it was bobbing in the middle of everything else Dean didn’t want to think about.

‘Tell me something. When's the last time you watched a sunset without waiting for something to go bump in the night?’ Mildred asked him and Dean paused. There was nothing coming to mind. In fact, Dean couldn’t really think of a time when he had watched the sunset, not even on hunts. His mind had always been elsewhere and he’d never paid them much attention. ‘You should try it sometime,’ she went on and Dean rolled his eyes. Sunsets were far from his mind now.

Mildred continued to talk and Dean tried to focus on what she was saying as the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky. Despite the hunt, despite Mildred talking to him, her fear barely hidden beneath her words, the back of Dean’s mind kept shouting at him, demanding him to run from the retirement home and back to the bunker. To find him, now, not later.

It was only when Mildred put her hand over his chest and told him to follow his heart that Dean almost leapt from the sofa. This hunt wasn’t enough to keep him pinned. Even with Mildred’s life in danger, a part of Dean, that was growing larger and larger, begged for him to hurry now before it was too late and the trail gone cold. Because what did he mean,  _ gone _ ?

All of a sudden, just after Dean got up from the sofa, a high-pitched scream rang through the room and tore at Dean’s ears. His hands flew up to protect them as he knees wavered.

‘Dean? Dean!’

Dean could vaguely make out Sam’s voice as he dropped to his knees, the screaming getting louder by the second, and he screwed his eyes shut to try and block it all out. He felt hands on his shoulders and Sam’s voice close by and Dean forced his eyes open to blurrily make out his brothers face in front of him. As Sam came more into focus he noticed something over his shoulder.

‘Sam,’ he croaked. ‘Sam, it’s here!’

Sam whirled around but the banshee vanished leaving behind a vague impression of black smoke. Mildred and Eileen both looked around warily as Dean staggered to his feet. Each of them held a gold blade in their hand. It appeared behind Eileen and despite how quickly she moved to face it, the banshee was faster. Eileen was thrown across the room, hitting a bookcase hard, her blade falling from her hand. Mildred yelled out as Sam lunged forward, slashing at the banshees arm, leaving behind a cut that glowed. It screamed in pain and flung Sam away from it, throwing him through a door and the screaming became too much for Dean. Between the banshee and his own mind he caved to the same actions as the previous victims. He vaguely felt arms wrap around his shoulders as if to stop him as more voices joined the cacophony in his head. A sharp pain cut through the noise and for a moment the noise seemed to drop before returning to its previous intensity. The arms had vanished from his shoulders and the pain came and went leaving Dean with more and more noise. 

And then the noise died away. Dean panted and collapsed against the wall he hadn’t realised he was kneeling beside. He slowly opened his eyes, the lights bright after the darkness of earlier. Mildred was kneeling beside him, her hand resting against his cheek as she turned his head toward her. She smiled at him, but her smile was shaky. She moved her hand and Dean saw red, blood smearing her pale skin and one of his own hands reached up to his temple where he felt a cut leaking blood down the side of his face.

Eileen was standing by the symbol on the wall, gold blade in hand and smiling at Sam who was looking up from where he’d hit the wall and saying something to her in sign language, a smile on his face, too. Dean looked away and stared down at his bloody hand, not listening to Mildred’s fussing for a moment as he tried to ignore the burning feeling in his chest.

 

The bunker lay in silence.

Dean was pouring over books in the library, his eyes dry and itching from the sleepless night when a mug landed next to his elbow. He looked around to find Sam frowning at him and Dean rolled his eyes, grunted a short thanks and turned back to the book in front of him. He didn’t need Sam’s lecture right now. He just needed to find a way to save Cas.

‘Dean. Did you sleep at all last night.’ Despite not needing the lecture, apparently he was getting it anyway. He decided not to answer knowing that it was no use. The chair next to Dean was pulled out and then Sam sat down. Dean bit back a sigh, knowing that Sam was looking out for him but that wasn’t enough to stop him from being annoyed. It was what they always did, after all.

And now Dean was beginning to realise that maybe, while always looking out for each other, they had forgotten to look out for anyone else. The fact that he hadn’t even realised the devil was masquerading as his best friend proved that.

Sam’s phone let out a quiet ding and brought Dean out of his thoughts. He didn’t have to look around to see that Sam was reading something Eileen must have sent him. In the week since the banshee case the two had messaged each other every day. He flicked through the next page of his book and tried to ignore the sound of Sam responding to her.

‘Eileen said she may have an idea on how to help us.’

It took another moment for Dean to realise Sam was talking to him. He looked up, blinking as his vision suddenly swam. Sam was looking down at his phone still which Dean now glanced down at in confusion. His own phone was in his pocket, still silent.

‘Help with what?’

‘Uh, Amara?’ Sam said, a frown marring his face now and Dean turned to look up at him.

‘You told her about Amara?’ Dean’s stomach twisted and he couldn’t tell what exactly had caused it. Sam glanced down at his phone as it let out another ding.

‘Yeah – yeah, I did,’ Sam said, his voice strengthening as he continued. ‘We’ve hit a brick wall. We have no idea how to get rid of her and Eileen asked if there was anything we needed help with. Maybe a pair of fresh eyes will help.’

‘What about Cas?’ Dean demanded, turning in his chair to face Sam who sighed and leaned back in his chair.

‘Look, I’m not saying give up on Cas – of course we won’t. But Cas wanted to do this – he wants Amara to be dealt with –’

‘And we’ll deal with her when we get Cas back, he can help us with that,’ Dean argued. The lack of sleep and sudden surge of anger made him grateful he was still sitting despite how badly he wanted to get up and storm out of the bunker.

‘We don’t know how to help Cas. Or where he is, if Lucifer’s telling the truth. Meanwhile, Eileen may really have something that could help us,’ Sam argued, and Dean sighed. He recognised the look on Sam’s face and knew there was no point in arguing.

‘Fine. What does she have?’

‘She said she was going through her parents’ old lore books and she found something she thinks may help. A Hand of God.’

‘A what?’ Dean turned to face his brother again, the useless book in front of him was pushed away as he did so. 

‘A Hand of God,’ Sam repeated. ‘Apparently, when God touched something while on Earth in Biblical times, he would leave behind an imprint of his power – these objects would hold some of God’s power in them.’

‘So what, throw one of these Hands of God at Amara and hope it kills her?’ Dean snorted. ‘Since when has anything to do with that guy ever helped us?’

‘Cas did,’ Sam said quietly, and Dean looked up at him, his lips thinning and his eyes narrowing.

‘What?’

‘I mean – Cas helped us. Always did.’

‘And?’

‘Well, he’s something to do with God.’

‘Are you really comparing Cas to some old junk God fondled centuries ago? And yeah – Cas always helped us. And look where that’s gotten him!’

Dean’s voice rose as anger built in his chest until he was yelling. He didn’t realise that he’d leapt to his feet until he heard his chair crash against the library’s floor. Sam was looking down at his phone in his hands, the screen now dark from inaction.

‘Cas chose to do this –’

‘Cas chose to hand himself over to the devil himself because he thought he had to! To help  _ us _ , Sam. This is our fault!’

‘We didn’t force him to do anything. I don’t think anyone ever could force Cas to do something he didn’t want to.’ Dean was silent for a moment before he looked away, his mouth forming the words against his will.

‘I did.’

The white room full of paintings and statues seemed to have occurred a lifetime ago. Cold and stately and beautiful in a distant, untouchable way. The way he’d used to think angels were.

‘What?’

‘How does this hand-thing help us, then?’ he said loudly, his voice suddenly filling the room and startling Sam.

‘It – uh, well. Eileen thinks that Amara’s power is entrenched in darkness, right?’ Dean looked at him and Sam nodded. ‘Right. Well, God is considered the light to her darkness. If anything is going to hurt her or kill her, it’ll have to be this. Nothing else is strong enough.’

‘Alright, then how do we find one?’

‘Not sure. We’re still working on that,’ Sam said, waking his phone back up and typing out something to Eileen.

Dean stared at Sam’s phone, his fingers flying over the screen. He turned away and stared blankly at the books stretched out before him. The useless books that had no leads or clues on how to save Cas and bring him home.

 

A quick hunt in Sioux Falls and the odd dinners around a full table at Jody’s had cleared their heads and despite Dean’s initial reluctance to leave the bunker, he was rather relieved to have gotten a little bit of space. The girls may not be in the know of everything but even they had picked up on something being wrong. Between Claire’s continued ignorance over what was happening to her father’s clone that Dean had been unwilling to break, and Jody’s insistence that her door was always open or even a phone call if he needed it, Dean was left feeling conflicted over the course of his stay there.

Even so, the high of a successful hunt, heightened by the visit to Jody’s, dwindled away to barely a glow as Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage. The full weight of what was waiting for him inside hit him once more and he forced himself out of the car and after Sam, back into the bowels of the bunker. The empty halls echoed around them and Dean bit back a curse as the crushing sense of loss hit him again. The sight of his dark and empty room was the final straw and he didn’t bother changing or unpacking his bag before he crashed onto the bed, falling down on the right-hand side, the left side gaping like an open wound.

The next morning after a sleepless night, Dean fumbled with the coffee pot, grumbling as he poured it into his mug and turned to face the bright kitchen. Sam was typing at the table when Dean sat down opposite him. Sam moved a couple of books over to the seat next to him but not before Dean caught sight of the title for an ASL beginners book. Instead of amusement, all Dean could feel was the empty hole that felt as if it was sucking everything in his chest towards it to destroy it. The seat beside him felt too empty, not just empty space but the abandoned potential.

‘Hey,’ Sam quickly greeted and Dean grunted in reply. The coffee was starting to do its trick but not quickly enough. ‘So Eileen’s been busy digging and she came up with something interesting.’

‘What?’

‘Apparently the Hands of God aren’t just pieces of God’s power. They’re all connected,’ Sam’s face was lit up and Dean could only stare blankly. 

‘And that means what for us?’

‘Okay, so all these Hands of God are left behind by God but He doesn’t lose any of his power by leaving them behind. They’re more like fingerprints. And all these echoes of his power are linked and they all lead back to the original source of power.’

‘So, you think we can give the big man another ring? ’Cause we haven’t tried that before, have we?’ Dean snorted and Sam sighed, lowering the laptop screen.

‘This is a real chance to find him –‘

‘A real chance?’

‘And if anyone has a chance of stopping Amara, it’s him!’

‘Not this again,’ Dean groaned and drained the last of his coffee. ‘Look, have Eileen send whatever stuff she’s found over but don’t count on it. I’m going to town.’

‘She’s bringing it here,’ Sam said, his voice dropping and Dean glanced over in time to see Sam open his laptop again, his cheeks darker than before.

‘Right,’ he said slowly, suddenly feeling off balance. He glanced at the coffee pot and then back to Sam who was staring at his laptop intently. ‘Right, I’ll be back.’

He didn’t realise he’d already made it to the garage until he was sitting in the Impala. The garage didn’t seem to make sense to his eyes. Everything felt slightly tilted. The space beside him felt too empty. 

 

The air burned against him. If it truly was air. Hell felt different to his form now. The last time he’d been here, he’d abandoned his vessel to exercise his full form after having it restored. The time before that, he had burned for a different reason. While Hell had clawed at his wings and eyes, his own many limbs had sliced through the space, his form blinding enough to cause lower level demons to cower away.

The burning had been focused. A single damaged human soul, burning upon contact with his grace. Despite the initial struggle, it had felt as if grace and soul had fused together for the journey back to Earth.

It was nothing like that now.

Everything felt more immediate. His grace, flayed wide open, was almost not enough to protect the warmth weakly flickering in his centre.

It all felt as if it was being burned away, with every moment he spent locked up. The bars felt colder against him as the twisting form of his brother lashed out, the last scraps of his grace whipping against torn wings.

There wasn’t enough space to move out of reach. His corner seemed to grow smaller and smaller every day. Or was it hours? Nothing made sense. It felt as if it was all being stripped away. He couldn’t hold onto his thoughts clearly anymore. The only thing that seemed to make any difference were his drifting thoughts of green eyes and a freckled face. His grace would coil closer and the odd warmth in his centre would seem to strengthen, if only for a moment.

The burning felt a little more distant with those thoughts in mind. Or maybe he was just becoming more distant. It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered as long as those green eyes were bright and familiar. 

And buried beneath under all of that twisting and blistering heat, there was something else. An ache he didn’t understand. A constant ache that rose and fell sharply without any warning. It took up residence in his centre, next to the warmth that pulsed there and he curled in tighter, broken wings wrapping more securely around him.

 

The Hands of God were a real thing, judging by the half a dozen books Eileen had spread across the library table. Sam sat opposite her so she could easily see what he was saying and Dean hovered at the end of the table. That feeling of unease hadn’t left him since he’d woken up.

‘So they’re like breadcrumbs?’ Sam summarised and Eileen smiled.

‘In a way. There may be a way to contact God. Or maybe enough power as it is if we find one.’

‘If,’ Dean repeated and Sam turned to him.

‘It’s the best chance we’ve got,’ he argued and Dean grudgingly nodded. ‘So now we need to focus on trying to locate one. Any ideas on what these Hands could be?’ he asked, facing Eileen again and she shook her head.

‘There’s nothing in these,’ she gestured to the books. ‘All they say is that it would be something like a religious artifact. Maybe something mentioned in the Bible. Gifts God may have given to people,’ she trailed off and Dean frowned.

‘So any object mentioned in the bible could be a Hand of God?’

‘I think it has to be something directly connected to God,’ Sam said. ‘Like Eileen said, maybe gifts given to people. There are several mentioned in the bible. They’d be old now. Kept locked away most likely – museums, collectors, possibly Heaven.’

‘Then, how will we find one?’ Eileen asked. ‘I doubt you’ll be able to get one from Heaven.’

‘True, no,’ Sam agreed and Dean leaned against the other table. ‘But maybe collectors or museums. Hopefully we’ll find something. I’ll check auction websites for a start.’

‘What kind of object could it be?’ Dean interrupted, and Sam turned to him again. Eileen soon turned too, frowning slightly and Dean quickly repeated himself.

‘Anything, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Maybe a book, or staff or something along those lines.’

‘A staff?’ Dean asked and Sam and Eileen both frowned at him. Eileen nodded before turning to the book to her left. She nodded again before looking up at both brothers.

‘Possibly, why?’

Dean glanced at Eileen before looking over to see Sam frowning at him. He closed his eyes for a moment before he forced out a single word.

‘Crowley.’

‘What? How does Crowley know anything about this?’ Sam asked and Eileen stared, her brows drawing together as she attempted to follow them. 

‘He may have let something slip back… I think he was drunk but he mentioned something about a secret lockup and about some of the things in it. One of them was an incredibly powerful rod from biblical times that God himself was supposed to have handled.’

‘Oh, that’s… fantastic. Of course, he would have one,’ Sam grumbled. ‘Wait, did he ever tell you where this lockup was?’

Dean grimaced, trying not to think too much about the circumstances when Crowley had let this information slip, desperate to not let his face go red to spark Sam’s teasing. The slight twist of his stomach was bad enough.

‘I have an idea,’ he managed to get out and something must have shown in his face because Sam’s face twitched oddly as though he were trying to repress a frown and a smile at the same time. Instead of facing his brother, Dean turned to grab hold of the laptop nearest him.

Eileen got up from her seat and stepped closer to see what he was doing as Dean quickly jumped through several searches before locating the only lockup in the area.

‘Got it. A few hours drive away from here,’ he said and he looked up at Sam who looked between him and Eileen.

‘Anything else we should know about these things?’ he asked and she nodded.

‘Don’t hold it with your bare hands. When you do you activate the power,’ she explained and they both nodded.

‘Alright,’ Dean said, getting up. ‘We should go now.’

‘I’m coming,’ Eileen said firmly, looking between the brothers. Dean stilled and shot a look at Sam who he was surprised to see was hesitating. When his brother turned to look at him Dean just shrugged. There was no time for shit like this. The sooner they found the Hand, the sooner they could focus on saving Cas.

The drive to the lockup took longer than he’d thought. A sudden road closure due to a four-car pileup slowed them down considerably and they pulled into town far too late. Sam was yawning and Eileen could barely keep her eyes open. It was with reluctance that Dean turned the nose of the Impala away from the lockup and towards the nearest motel. Sam stumbled out of the car after him but Dean waved him back. He could check in by his fucking self.

He remembered in time to book two rooms and slowly made his way back to the car where Eileen was now resting her head against the window. He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could but the frame of the car still shook enough to wake her before he drove them around to where their rooms were. They all staggered out of the car and collected their bags from the trunk before Dean handed the second key to Eileen. 

‘We’re next door,’ he told her and she nodded and smiled gratefully.

‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she said and after Sam had wished her a good night, she made her way to her room. Dean ignored Sam who seemed to have stalled a little to watch her go and made his way to the next room over. He could hear his brother following and he left the door open for him. They undressed silently, taking turns in the bathroom, before Sam collapsed onto the bed closest the door. Dean lay down though his eyes didn’t close. He listened as Sam’s breathing evened out into soft snores but it took Dean a long time to close his eyes. Just as he felt himself drifting off he couldn’t stop himself from sending out one last thought.

_ Hang on buddy. We’re getting there. We’ll be there soon. _

The lockup was a mess.

It appeared that if Crowley had ever attempted a filing system it had been forgotten a long time ago. There were shelves full of boxes, papers spilling out from everywhere they looked. Several old oil paintings were up on one wall and the large bench in the middle of the room was covered in more junk.

‘Great,’ Sam said as they stood in the doorway. ‘Cause this won’t take long at all.’

Eileen had already moved forward after checking nearby surfaces for sigils and made her way to the bench. Sam sighed and went for the nearest set of shelves and Dean moved to the opposite side of the room where a pile of wooden crates were stacked on the floor.

They worked in silence for a while until Eileen snorted and when the boys looked over it was to see her holding a painfully familiar book in her hand. Her eyebrow was raised in amusement as she turned to look at Sam, who groaned and flushed dark enough that it was obvious even in the lockups shitty lighting.

‘This isn’t true, is it?’ she asked and Dean turned back to the crates that apparently contained a shit ton of Craigs.

‘Unfortunately,’ Sam said. ‘Please don’t read those.’

‘No promises,’ Eileen said before turning back to the bench and Dean couldn’t help but smile slightly. Sammy had always liked spirited ones.

Over an hour passed with only the sounds of papers rustling, boxes scraping the floor and the odd curse word as something fell or too much dust was expelled. It was Eileen who made the discovery.

She made a soft questioning noise before speaking, her voice breaking through the solid silence they had built while working.

‘I found something.’

Sam was by her side almost immediately where he then paused and looked down in the long box that had been hidden under books and paper. Dean was slower, his knees protesting as he got up from his crouched position.

In the box lay a long stick of wood that appeared old. To Dean it looked just like an old stick picked up off the ground. The longer they stood there staring at it however Dean could swear the air seemed to thicken and with more than their anticipation. It was as if the stick could sense they were there and the urge to pick it up grew stronger and stronger.

Eileen quickly pulled the sheet it was resting on top of over it and Sam hesitantly reached into the box and pulled it out. Dean glanced around the lock up, his eyes lingering on another one of those bloody books before he turns to leave.

‘Shouldn’t we tidy it a bit? So Crowley doesn’t know we were here?’ Sam asked and Dean paused before shaking his head.

‘He rarely comes out this way,’ he said. ‘Anyway, it’ll piss him off when he realises.’

He doesn’t stay to hear if Sam says something in response. He led the way out to where Baby stood waiting for them and he climbed in behind the wheel, leaving Sam to lock the roller door. Eileen walked beside him and he found himself unable to watch as she turned to look up at him with a soft smile on her face.

The frame of the Impala shook when they climbed in after putting the rod in the trunk and for a moment they all just sat there in silence.

‘Now what?’

Dean continued to stare straight ahead and only remembered to turn around for Eileen, who seemed to have become a member of the team without argument, and quickly repeated what he said for her benefit. She frowned slightly, as though thinking and Sam sighed.

‘I have no idea.’

‘I didn’t think we’d find one so quickly,’ Eileen admitted and Dean nodded.

‘Home,’ he said before turning back around and starting Baby’s engine. They barely spoke for the drive back east. He didn’t want to stop at a motel again and so pushed on, reluctant to even stop for lunch, but soon Sam and then Eileen’s arguments wore him down and they pulled in at a second-rate diner where the burgers were limp and the coffee burnt. Dean’s stomach was churning too much for him to take more than a couple of bites and throw back the coffee, trying to ignore the taste it left behind. He left Sam and Eileen in the diner, saying he needed to stretch his legs and they had both nodded before turning to the other. Dean had stood there for a moment, and once again felt unbalanced, as if he was suddenly a stranger in his own shoes.

He almost ran from the diner and back to Baby’s side. Standing there, his heart lurching in his chest and his skin feeling oddly chilled despite the sun that was shining, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He knew it was useless but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing number two and listening to the phone ring and ring and ring. There was a loud beep and then the familiar warm voice filled his ear.

‘This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.’

His voice started out strong, the rough edges almost smooth, like whiskey, slowly stumbling out towards the end. It sounded as if he’d lost his train of thought, distracted by something else before suddenly realising he needed to finish this inane human task.

There was no point in keeping the call open. Dean couldn’t leave a message because Cas would never get it. He didn’t have his phone anymore and their only way to communicate was gone.

‘This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.’

What had Cas possibly been thinking? What could have driven him to saying yes to that bastard? Despite not knowing the answer, guilt curdled in Dean’s stomach and he regretted finishing that shit that had masqueraded as coffee. Cas had said yes which had led to him vanishing – if Lucifer wasn’t lying and Cas truly wasn’t still in his vessel. He had chosen to leave which meant there was nothing he deemed enough to stay for. Dean closed his eyes. 

‘This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.’

Before Cas had rocked up on the side of that road Dean hadn’t seen him for weeks, not since they’d fought in the war room just before Cas had taken off overseas. Not since they’d fought about Metatron and Amara. The guilt inside intensified and now there was a roaring in his ears, his breath coming in choppy breaths.

‘This is my voicemail. Make y-’

His phone smashed as it hit the concrete. His hands were covering his face and Dean forced himself to breathe, his eyes burning as his chest tightened. The space next to him felt too empty and he missed Cas, in that moment, more than he could ever remember missing him. His chest ached and his body felt cold and all Dean wanted was to catch blue eyes staring at him again, Cas’s warmth pressed too close and to be able to breathe once more, his angel beside him where he belonged.

Everywhere felt too empty, the bunker’s hallways seemed colder and longer, echoing every noise. The Impala felt empty too, even with Eileen now in it and Cas had rarely travelled with them especially now that he had his own car. The kitchen and the war room and the library and the diner he’d just left and the motel last night and his own room back home. They all felt so empty now. Places Cas had never been screamed his absence at Dean and he could only fumble behind in the dark, unable to understand where all the light went, listening over and over to a pre-recorded message until nothing made sense.

By the time Sam and Eileen had made their way out to the Impala, Dean had picked up as many pieces of his phone that he could and thrown them away. He had one of their spares tucked into his pocket now and was sitting in the drivers seat, window wound down and the soft opening of Zep’s  _ Thank You _ filling the car.

‘You want me to drive?’ Sam asked and Dean snorted. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t need to and soon enough they were peeling out of the diner’s carpark and back onto the highway.

The sun began to drop in the sky as Dean continued to drive and it was completely dark when he finally pulled into the Bunker’s garage. Sam and Eileen moved first, grabbing their things and the rod before Dean got out of the car. Their footsteps echoed through the garage and down into the bunker.

They decided to lock the rod away for now using a curse box Sam had discovered several months earlier, back in the days when everything had been bloodstained to Dean’s eyes. Eileen announced the need for a shower and Sam laughed, directing her further into the bunker. Dean grabbed hold of his bag, went to his room where he dumped it and the clothes he was currently wearing. A shower could wait he decided and instead he changed into cleaner clothes and went back out to the library. He grabbed the next pile of books he’d planned to look at before Eileen had rocked up and detoured to the kitchen. A fresh six-pack waited for him and he grabbed it with his free hand and turned around to return to his room. He almost dropped the beer when Sam suddenly came around the corner and into the kitchen.

‘Thought you’d gone to bed,’ he said before catching sight of what Dean was holding, his face falling once he’d realised what Dean was planning on doing. ‘Dean,’ he began but Dean spoke over him.

‘You and Eileen going to bed soon?’

He couldn’t stop himself from smirking when Sam flushed and glared at Dean. 

‘She’s already in bed. I gave her room fifteen. It’s the only really clean room we have,’ he said, rambling a little in his embarrassment and Dean nodded. He tried not to think too closely about why that room was still relatively clean.

‘Well, I’ll be going,’ he said and side stepped around Sam who followed him.

‘Dean, you need to sleep. Staying up reading the same books over and over and drinking won’t save him. He wouldn’t want you doing that.’

‘Save it, Sam,’ Dean snapped and watched as his brother wisely chose to stop. Dean turned away and walked back to his room pausing only to flick on the light. He put the books down on the nightstand and twisted open one of the beers. It was going to be a long night.

 

Dean hadn’t dropped off to sleep until just after five. When he woke, it was with his cheek resting on the hardcover of a book that professed to be about angels and their grace. Half of it was rubbish but he wasn’t sure about the second half. He had never asked about it much. In hindsight not asking had been stupid. A lot of things in hindsight looked stupid.

His head swam with exhaustion and the beer he’d had last night as he forced himself upright. He pulled out his phone, the screen blank of any notifications, not that it mattered, not now. He blearily stared at the numbers at the top of the screen until they rearranged themselves to make sense. 

6:12.

His limbs were still shaking slightly, covered in a light sheen of sweat and he rubbed at his face, as though hoping to rub away the images his mind had created. His own warped memories of the Pit and Cas. Always Cas. Burning with Lucifer laughing. The cold seeping through Dean’s shoulder and Cas staring up at him, his eyes filled with tears slowly turning hard and cold and Dean falling to the floor unable to reach Cas anymore. The fire had taken everything away until he’d woken, gasping and reaching out across a bed full of only hard books and empty bottles.

He lay there for a moment longer before forcing himself to get out of his bed, not bothering with the mess, and instead made his way to the bathroom. A hot shower washed away the sweat covering his body and he closed his eyes, refusing to give in to the prickling behind his eyes.

He was in the kitchen before anyone else, the coffee pot empty so, after grumbling to himself, he quickly made it up. Watching it slowly go through the process with narrowed eyes, he leant back on the bench and tried to focus only on what was in the kitchen. There had been nothing in those books and the feeling that he was just running head first into a brick wall was slowly growing. The bunker’s library was failing him and Dean could feel a scream, bubbling away in his chest, slowly making its way up into his throat, choking him. 

As soon as the coffee was ready, Dean made a mug and threw it back, hoping to burn through what was strangling him but only succeeded in burning his mouth and his throat. He coughed, eyes watering and he forced himself to move to the kitchen table. He had no energy to get anything to eat. Sam could get something when he got up.

Half an hour later found Dean still at the table, second mug of coffee almost empty and his head resting on crossed arms on top of the table. Sam hesitated when he entered the kitchen, Eileen right behind him, and he glanced at Dean with concern practically rolling off of him in waves.

‘Dean?’ he ventured and Dean responded by merely grunting but didn’t lift his head. ‘Did you sleep at all last night?’

‘Little,’ Dean grumbled and forced himself upright. He finished off his coffee and Sam sighed. Eileen poured out two fresh mugs and grabbed Dean’s to refill it. He nodded at her in thanks as she sat opposite him. Sam rummaged around for a few minutes and when he joined them at the table he had a stack of toast for Dean and Eileen and a bowl of muesli for himself.

‘So,’ Sam started and Dean looked over at him as he sat beside Dean. Eileen glanced between the two, a piece of toast already in her hand. ‘Did you find anything?’

‘No,’ Dean said shortly and thankfully, Sam dropped the subject.

‘What about this Hand?’ Eileen interrupted and they both turned to look at her. ‘What do we do now that we have it? Do we try to contact Him or just use it?

‘Well,’ Sam shot Dean a look before turning back to Eileen. ‘I suppose we figure out how to use the Hand and then we have to locate Amara and hope that it does its job,’ Sam said but Eileen made a noise of dissent.

‘The Hand can only be used once and no mortal can survive holding it for long,’ she explained and Sam groaned.

‘And there’s the catch,’ he grumbled and Eileen smiled sympathetically.

‘So it’ll kill whoever uses it,’ Dean said and Eileen nodded. ‘Well, that plan worked out great didn’t. This’ll be a total blast.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sam slowly said, as though he didn’t want to hear the answer. Dean bought himself a bit more time by finishing off his first slice of toast, only now realising how hungry he was.

‘We don’t have any other choice,’ Dean finally said. ‘No way are either of you two doing this – I chose that bloody mark. We can’t find a way to save Cas. I’ll do this.’

‘No, you’re not. This will kill you,’ Sam snapped. ‘And if we’re playing the blame game, I broke the mark, not you.’

‘Save it Sammy,’ Dean tried but was quickly spoken over.

‘No. This isn’t your choice to make. You don’t get to just ditch us. And what about Cas?’

‘What about him? I can’t save him. We don’t know where he is or if he’s still alive. I can’t save him!’

Dean’s voice rose until his last few words were yelled. Silence followed his shouting and Dean continued to breathe heavily, guilt and pain churning through him making him regret the bit of toast he’d eaten. Sam was staring at him, frowning as though trying to think of a new argument. Eileen was silent.

‘We’re going to save him, Dean. We will,’ Sam insisted and Dean turned away, glaring down at his mug instead. ‘It’ll take time but we’ll figure it out, we always do.’

Dean remained silent and for a moment nothing was said. 

‘Is there anyone else? Do you know anyone who isn’t a mortal?’ Eileen asked eventually. ‘With your lives, you probably do.’

‘Wait,’ Sam said slowly. ‘It’ll only kill mortals.’

‘Yeah?’ 

Sam didn’t answer her straight away but turned to Dean who reluctantly looked over at him. Sam’s face had cleared of any sign of a frown and instead he was almost smiling.

‘What?’ Dean asked, his own confusion growing the longer Sam stared at him.

‘Crowley.’

‘What?’ Dean repeated, his face went slack and his mind blank.

‘Who?’ Eileen asked.

‘The King of Hell,’ Sam explained, glancing at her and her eyes grew wide. ‘Dean! Crowley would love to be the one do this – he’d be willing to give it a shot, probably and it won’t kill him to use the Hand.’

‘Maybe,’ Dean said cautiously, even as a small shred of hope began to grow inside him.

‘He lost control of her and she did threaten him – he’s not going to want that threat hanging around. And if you call him he’ll be more likely to actually do it.’

‘Says who?’ Dean said incredulously and Sam shot him a look, trying not to show any sign of discomfort. Of course Crowley was more likely to listen to him over Sam but his brother didn’t need to bring  _ that _ up. ‘What?’

‘Just do it, Dean,’ his brother rolled his eyes and Dean sighed before pulling out his phone. He turned away a bit so he didn’t have to see Sam’s face and just caught sight of Eileen’s confused frown before he dropped his gaze to his phone screen, ever blank. He quickly scrolled through his contacts, pausing when he hit the C’s. He stared at one name for a moment before hitting the one beneath it and brought the phone up to his ear.

It rang and continued to ring and Dean frowned, turning back around to look at Sam, pulling the phone away when Crowley’s voicemail was all he heard.

‘Not answering,’ he said and Sam sighed.

‘Great.’

‘Yeah,’ Dean said, pocketing his phone again. ‘I’ll try again later.’

‘Wait,’ Sam said slowly again and this time he shot Dean an almost nervous look. Dean’s lips thinned as he prepared himself. That look never meant anything good.

‘What?’

‘There may be someone else that could use the Hand.’

‘Who? And don’t say Rowena,’ Dean warned and Sam gave a nervous chuckle.

‘No, uh – Lucifer could.’

‘What?’

‘What!’

Eileen’s incredulous question and Dean’s shout mingled and Sam glanced between the two.

‘I’m sorry,’ Dean said, trying for calm. ‘For a moment I thought you said you wanted to give Lucifer a Hand of God.’

‘He wants Amara gone, too –’

‘Does he? Or is that just what he told Cas so he could get out of the Cage?’

‘He told you he was going to fight her.’

‘So? That’s what he said. Since when do we think listening to the literal devil is a good thing?’

‘He’s more expendable, Dean. There’s always the chance this won’t work. And if Amara wipes Lucifer out then that’s a plus, if not he kills her.’

‘And then what? What if she does wipe him out? He’s wearing Cas’s body. We need that if we’re going to save try and save Cas, like you just said we would.’

‘We’ll find another vessel for Cas if the worse thing happens. An empty body he can use like this last one.’

‘But then it won’t be Cas,’ Dean protested, something like shock filling his veins with ice at Sam’s comment. The thought of Cas here but not with messy hair and insane eyes and a crappy coat was too different for Dean’s brain to contemplate.

‘This last vessel isn’t,’ Sam argued. ‘Not really.’

‘It’s not just a vessel,’ Dean argued, gritting his teeth. He didn’t know how to explain it to Sam, wasn’t even sure that he really wanted to. Dean hated the reminder that the face he thought of as Cas wasn’t really Cas. That what Cas really looked like was something Dean would never be able to see. Cas seemed to know almost everything about Dean, including his soul and yet Dean could never truly see Cas. But that body that Cas had claimed  _ was _ Cas, had become Cas in a way Sam didn’t seem to realise. That was Cas’s body. No one else’s. And it would be to that body that Cas would be returned.

The kitchen fell silent and Sam wisely left the conversation alone. Instead he went for a run and Eileen left to take a shower. Dean quickly cleaned up the kitchen before making his way back to his room. The pile of useless books scattered across his bed needed to be returned to the library and the half a dozen bottles that were on the floor and even on the bed needed to be thrown out. For good measure Dean stripped the bed and washed the sheets before remaking the bed. By the time he was done Sam was back and in the shower, Eileen once again in the library, flicking through more books.

Dean joined her with his laptop, detouring to the kitchen to bring them fresh mugs of coffee which Eileen gratefully accepted. She was looking through a book written in a language that Dean didn’t recognise and appeared to be concentrating hard. She had a couple notes written out beside her and Dean settled himself down without distracting her further. Nerds, the both of them.

Sam eventually joined them. He nodded at Dean but neither brought up their earlier argument as he settled down across from Eileen who looked up at him with a smile which he returned. Dean looked back down at his laptop screen, his stomach twisting and a leaden feeling in his chest. The fourth chair at the table they were at was left empty.

They remained that way all morning; sometimes one of them would get up to get a coffee refill but other than that they worked in silence. Just after one o’clock Dean couldn’t sit there any longer and left for the kitchen, returning a little while later with a plate full of sandwiches which were eagerly accepted.

It was two hours later, just as Eileen was returning with another load of drinks, beer for Dean, water for Sam and a cup of tea for herself that anything changed.

Sam noticed it first.

Eileen unable to hear what was happening around her noticed him look up just as she was putting the drinks down on the table and she frowned at him questioningly.

‘Sam? What is it?’

Her question caught Dean’s attention and he looked around at Sam. He didn’t quite realise what Sam had heard, still caught up in the trance he’d fallen into while reading but then the there was a loud scraping sound and a clang of metal and Sam and Dean were both up, guns out and Eileen followed their lead, looking out to the war room where the brothers were already pointing their guns.

The door closed with a bang and someone started to come the stairs. From where they stood they couldn’t see who was coming down the stairs yet. When they came into view Sam began to lower his gun, shock causing his face to go slack and Dean froze.

‘Aren’t you going to welcome me in, boys?’ she smiled from the foot of the stairs, her dark blue gown glittering in the light.

‘Rowena?’ Sam asked and her smile widened. Sam slowly moved forward, Dean following him. Neither put their guns down. Eileen silently followed them, her own gun raised.

‘How did you get in here?’ Dean snapped and she tsked.

‘You do recall locking me up in here, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘It wasn’t that difficult to find again, dear.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Well, I’m assuming you know the devil is out-’

‘You mean the devil you helped get out?’ Sam said sharply and Rowena’s smile dropped a fraction before she sighed.

‘And he killed me for that. Trust me, I’ll be helping him no more,’ she said, her face darkening and Sam frowned.

‘Then how are you here if he killed you?’

‘Oh Samuel, he’s not the first to try and kill me and I daresay he won’t be the last. I take precautions in the event someone may try to harm me,’ she explained.

‘Then what happened. He just left you there?’

‘Yes,’ she said with a grimace. ‘I woke up and he was gone and he’d taken Fergus with him. Locked him up I believe and then I got out of there. Like I was going to stick around any longer.’

‘Lucifer locked Crowley up?’ Dean said and glanced at Sam. ‘Well that explains that.’

‘Why’d you come here?’ Sam asked, his gun lowering slightly. Neither Dean or Eileen followed his actions, their guns fixed on the witch.

‘Well, you are pretty difficult to kill – I tried after all – and if anyone has a chance of stopping the Darkness, then it’s probably you two.’

‘Really?’ Sam said incredulously and Dean snorted.

‘What’s in it for you?’

‘I have no idea what you could mean by that.’

‘You know exactly what we mean,’ Dean finally lowered his gun, noting how Rowena relaxed and she sighed.

‘Fine. I may have had a look ahead to see what you were up to and I noticed you have what feels like a lot more power than before. I knew it couldn’t be the angel because, well –’

‘Yeah, thanks for that heads up,’ Dean snapped and Sam lifted a hand to stop him. Eileen had lowered her gun now and she was looking at Rowena curiously. ‘Wait, how did you see?’

‘Astral projection,’ she said with a roll of her eyes. Dean went to snap again but Sam shot him a look. Dean bit his tongue and forced himself to look away before he shot her. The last time they’d seen her she’d freed Lucifer even if Crowley had forced her to reverse it later. Before that she’d cursed Cas and now Dean’s fingers were itching to put a bullet through her skull.

‘I know we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye –’

‘Yeah, and why would we trust an evil hag like-’

‘Dean. Stop,’ Sam’s voice was firm as he cut across Dean and he turned back to where Rowena looked amused, slowly tucking his gun away.

‘What is it you want?’

‘To get rid of her and preferably the devil, too,’ she said bluntly and Sam sighed before nodding slowly.

‘Sam?’ Eileen’s voice broke the silence and Sam automatically turned around to face her, an apologetic smile on his face.

‘This is Rowena, the witch I mentioned. She’s here to help.’

‘Yeah, herself,’ Dean snorted but held his tongue after that.

‘Alright then,’ Sam moved so he was facing Rowena but Eileen could still some of his face. She stepped forward, tucking her own gun away, and moved so she could see both Rowena and Sam clearly. Rowena’s eyes tracked her movements before she took a seat opposite Dean at the war table. Sam and Eileen followed her and soon the four were sitting around the table in silence, staring at one another.

‘So did you boys have any plans, or are we just going to sit here,’ Rowena finally said and Dean forced himself to look away and bite his tongue. ‘Really? You’ve been sitting around doing nothing?’

‘Not nothing,’ Sam argued. ‘We think we may have found something that could defeat her.’

‘Well? What is it?’ Rowena asked, curiosity lighting her eyes up and Dean shot Sam a warning look.

‘Sam,’ he said slowly and his brother sighed.

‘We need her help,’ he admitted which caused Rowena to smile smugly.

‘How?’ Eileen said, her voice sharp and Dean relaxed and glanced to see her frowning at Sam. ‘We were working it out ourselves.’

‘Exactly,’ Dean mumbled.

‘We need her help to trap Lucifer,’ he said. ‘She managed to do it once before.’

‘Wait, what?’ Any trace of smugness on Rowena’s face had vanished as her expression went slack with shock. ‘I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. For a moment it sounded like you wanted to trap the bleeding devil?’

‘Yes, and you’re going to help us,’ Sam said firmly and she stared at him.

‘I thought we were focusing on Amara, you know, the one who wants to destroy the world?’

‘We are but we need Lucifer to do it.’

‘Why?’ Rowena’s voice rose as her eyebrows did and for a moment Dean was almost in support of her shock.

‘I thought we agreed to leave that until we got him out of –’

‘Dean, we can’t afford to wait,’ Sam turned to face him. ‘Look, I know you want Cas to be safe but he chose this and now we have to deal with Amara – she’s getting stronger the longer this goes on and now we have the Hand and Rowena, we stand a chance now.’

Dean could only stare at his brother, feeling as if something was being crushed in his chest, as though something had collided inside of him and the world felt off centre again. He could only sit there, reeling, as Sam turned back to face Rowena who had her eyes narrowed. 

‘We have something – a weapon – to use against her but it can’t be wielded by a mortal. We need Lucifer to use it. Are you able to trap him?’

After a long moment Rowena nodded slowly and Sam let out a breath.

‘Okay,’ he said quietly, as if to himself and Dean wanted to hit himself as he realised they were going to have to face Lucifer again, that Sam would have to come face to face with that  _ thing _ again. He wasn’t the only one dreading this but in the horror of losing Cas to this monster, he’d forgotten about Sammy’s horror – the very real threat Lucifer had once posed to him and carried through with and could do once more. It had only been a couple of weeks since Sam had locked himself away in the Bunker after facing Lucifer in Hell, after all.

Dean took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and cracked, as though the stress of everything had finally broken it too.

‘There’s an old barn about half an hour away. There’s nothing near it so we should be safe there.’

Sam stared at him with something like gratitude in his eyes and Dean’s stomach twisted with guilt. Would he always have to choose who to focus on? Would he never be able to find a balance between Sam and Cas and always end up leaving one behind? 

Though maybe, he thought as they all got to their feet and Eileen and Sam hovered closer together, Eileen saying something softly while Sam nodded, the tightness that still remained in his face loosening, maybe he could let his worry of Sam loosen too. He didn’t just have Dean now. 

The barn was old and had been abandoned long before Sam and Dean had moved into the area. Rowena went to work quickly while Dean and Eileen painted sigils and poured out holy water where she directed. Sam held onto the Hand and an angel blade as he went over the summoning Rowena had given him. As Lucifer’s intended vessel they had figured his connection would be the strongest. 

‘Alright,’ Rowena finally said and they all stood back. Dean held his lighter in his hand and when Rowena nodded to Sam, he passed Eileen the Hand and began to read out the summoning spell. It was stronger than a normal summoning, Rowena had explained, and was more like a compulsion. The string of Latin fell from Sam’s lips and Dean stared at the spot where he’d drawn up the trap. There was the sudden sound of wings tearing through the air and when the familiar figure appeared Dean threw his lighter down, flames springing up between them.

Lucifer’s face went from open and amused to outraged within seconds and Dean could feel Sam shift backwards a little beside them. Eileen stood on his other side and moved forward a fraction as if to shield Sam.

‘And here I thought we were on the same side,’ he snarked and Dean flinched at the sound of that voice twisted almost beyond recognition. ‘Guys,’ Lucifer’s eyes narrowed as they swept over them all and his gaze fixed on Rowena where she stood further back, her hand hovering over the spell she’d set up as a precaution.

‘Of course, I should have figured that you’d be like a cockroach,’ he snapped and Rowena’s hand shook slightly.

‘Listen,’ Sam said, his voice only shaking a little. Lucifer’s gaze flew to him instantly and he took a step forward closer to the fire. Sam faltered for a moment before he continued. ‘We all want Amara gone, right? Well, we think we have something that will work.’

‘Oh?’ Lucifer said.

‘Will you help us?’ Sam demanded and Lucifer lifted a hand to his chest, his face twisted into an exaggerated wounded look.

‘I promised you Sam. I would never lie to you,’ he said. ‘And I never have. I want her gone just as much as you do. It’s not like I’m her favourite nephew, that’s for sure.’

It was all too much. Dean could barely breathe; the flames were casting odd shadows to dance across the once familiar face, turning it into a strangers mask. The eyes were too cold, the smile too wild but from the corner of Dean’s eye it still looked like him enough that Dean’s chest ached. He could feel Sam standing not too far away with Eileen by his side. They stood adjacent to Dean, only a couple of feet away but it all felt too much. He couldn’t move towards them, couldn’t even look at them.

Ignoring the cruel smile and mocking eyes Dean mumbled something about getting some air, unsure as to what he actually said, if he’d even said anything at all or if it was all in his head before he stumbled away, his hands trembling as he strode towards the doors at the back of the barn.

The air was surprisingly cold outside, despite the fast approaching summer and it burned as he breathed it in. He forced himself to walk away from the barn, just a few extra paces until he stopped and closed his eyes. The cold settled in and despite his layers he could still feel it creeping along his arms.

He knew he should go back, he couldn’t leave Sam to deal with this alone. Not that he was alone, he reminded himself. Eileen was there now. Another, smaller part of Dean wanted to go back, because even though Cas wasn’t there it still looked like him. Seeing him though just made Dean miss Cas even more. The blue eyes rarely sought his out now. In fact,  _ he _ only looked at Dean if he felt Dean watching him first. The amount of times Dean had told Cas to knock it off with the staring and the personal space issues and now he wanted it all back. 

It probably was something to be grateful for. Having Lucifer in the same room as him made Dean’s skin crawl, he doubted he’d handle him standing close. It was bad enough remembering how Lucifer had held his shoulder and spoke, his voice low and comforting.

But it had been a lie and now Dean was standing in the cold, struggling to breathe around the weight on his chest and forcing back the tears he could feel building and he wanted Cas here with him, in such sharp startling clarity. He wanted Cas back, standing beside him, his dry, awkward remarks breaking the silence. Dean’s chest felt too empty, as if there was too much air in his lungs but no oxygen and his lungs were inflated, taking up all his chest space and leaving no room to actually breathe. 

_ I just want you back, Cas. Please, please, let me get him back. _

He opened his eyes, his vision blurred and the cold felt sharper on his cheeks and he realised it was because they were wet. Salty tracks made their way down his face, hitting his lips and his legs began to tremble. Maybe walking away from the barn had been a bad idea. It would have at least been something to lean against.

It took him a moment to realise he wasn’t alone anymore.

The night seemed to have become deeper, the shadows longer and all noise had been wiped away. It felt peaceful in a way that nights very rarely were. There was no wind, no animals scurrying and no noise from the barn behind him. Despite the peace blanketing the land Dean’s chest didn’t ease up and even though a part of his mind had gone blank realising who was there, another part was filled solely by Cas.

A gentle hand brushed against his forearm and he looked around and met her eyes. Dark as the night she felt peaceful in a way that made Dean think of night skies before cities exploded into light. The quiet darkness associated with space. Suffocating and consuming.

‘Dean.’

Her voice reached out to him, promising no pain, just peace and Dean could remember, even now, what it was like to let her wash over his mind, wiping away all the dark thoughts and regrets. The blood on his hands felt lighter, memories of broken bodies and exploding hardware stores, burned out eyes and bloody bathtubs felt further away when she was near.

But now his mind was filled with sharp edges, glinting and dripping dark with flames twisting them into horrifying shapes. And blue. All he could think was blue and how those eyes weren’t really  _ his _ but they were his, all Dean had ever known to be his but now they weren’t. They were cold and hard and it felt as if someone loosened the earth beneath Dean’s feet so he was left to stumble as it slipped beneath him, nothing secure as the sky seemed to bear down and swallow everything up.

And not even Amara could wipe that away. Not now.

She seemed to realise this as she hesitated, slowly turning away from him to look at the barn before facing him once more. Her face seemed more closed off, but her eyes felt more real, less like black holes and more like eyes, soft and warmer than before and Dean felt like crying, was already crying and he thought inexplicably of Mary. Of her warmth and safety and how she would have liked Cas, Dean knew she would. She had always told him that angels were watching over him but now he was gone, gone some place Dean couldn’t get him back because Dean didn’t save Cas. Cas saved Dean and Dean tore him down, dragged him out of the sky and sent him crashing to earth, broke his wings and sent him to hell.

Her voice was low when she spoke, something familiar to Dean like an old forgotten rhyme and Dean was able to focus on her, able to force everything else away for a moment.

‘You want him back – blue eyes,’ she said and Dean stared at her before nodding slowly, his words climbing slowly out of his chest and up his throat before tumbling off his tongue.

‘Yes,’ his voice was harsh, even to his own ears but her expression didn’t change. She tilted her head and the movement was so painfully familiar that Dean swallowed and had to look away from her until her voice brought his attention back to her. She was frowning now.

‘Why?’

Dean opened his mouth but his mind went blank. Suddenly the words seemed to tangle together and Dean could only stand there and try to think of a way to explain to this infinite creature exactly why he wanted Cas back. 

‘I…’ There were no words because how could words sum this up. Dean only had to close his eyes and he could feel the empty space by his side, the ache in his chest as though his ribs had all been cracked open. His shoulder felt heavier and the now smooth skin there seemed to scream out the absence of what once marked it. His phone was empty of any messages that made Dean want to answer. His room felt colder at night, his bed stretching out, empty all around him except for the empty bottles and books. 

Empty. That was the only way to describe it but that wasn’t enough. But maybe Amara could understand that. The emptiness she exuded wasn’t like this one. Hers was a promise, this a curse. A constant reminder that held only mocking what ifs.

‘Because he’s my best friend.’

The greatest friend Dean could have asked for and it hits him once more how badly he  _ wants _ Cas, not to save the day but to just be there, to linger, his gaze fixed on Dean’s face, his lips twitching at the corners with an almost smile as Dean joked. Cas had crashed into his life and flipped everything upside down and now nothing made sense unless he was there. Everything felt unbalanced without him there to stabilize Dean.

‘He’s family.’

‘He chose this.’ Her reminder hurts and Dean can feel more tears building, his hands clenching around nothing. ‘He chose to leave you.’

Cas had always left. Even before Amara. He never chose to stay despite the always open door. Though perhaps it wasn’t an obvious door. Cas had always come back and looked sadder every time and Dean had wondered if he hated coming back so much but now he couldn’t stop himself from thinking maybe Cas had never wanted to leave. Maybe he’d wanted to stay just as Dean had wanted him to stay.

‘So?’ Dean’s eyes opened and he stared her down. She watched him, an eerie calmness on her face now. ‘I’m not leaving him behind. I don’t know what he was thinking or why he chose to do this but I know Cas. He wouldn’t have chosen to do this if he didn’t think it was the right thing. Because he’s Cas and that’s what he does, even if it isn’t as right as he first thought. He still tries his best to help. That’s what he’s always done. Even if it’s wrong and hurts. And now I’m going to help him, even if it hurts because –’

‘Because he’s family,’ she interrupted, her voice soft but there was an edge to her tone now that makes that accursed part of Dean that aches for her want to reach out to her and soothe away her pain.

‘Yes,’ he managed to say past the lump in his throat. His arms remain close to his side and he watches as her gaze drifts over him before turning away to look in the direction of the barn. They remain silent for a long while and Dean thinks, abstractly, if Sam has even realised he’s gone. Eileen’s there, he reminds himself. Sammy’ll be fine.

And for once Dean realised that it’s true. Sam will be fine, even though Lucifer’s there and Dean’s not. Because Eileen is and they work well together.

‘He hurt you?’ she suddenly broke the silence and Dean stared at her.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And I’ve hurt him. We’re family – it’s kind of what you do. But that doesn’t matter, because I still want him to be family and I think he still wants that, too.’

‘Even if you’re angry you still want him there.’ She sounded confused and Dean suddenly has a moment of clarity.

‘I want him back because no matter what we’ve done to each other, we can work through it. We always do. I just want my family back,’ he said. ‘And I think you do too.’

She turned to face him, her mouth open in shock and her dark eyes wider than before.

‘You miss your brother, don’t you?’ he asked and she remained silent. Cautiously Dean continued, knowing that with a single thought she could destroy him.

‘I know that what he did, locking you away, isn’t something I can really understand. But Sam and I,’ Dean huffed out a weak laugh, gesturing to the barn beyond them. ‘We have hurt one another so many times and we keep coming back together. We’re family. I’d fight to keep him and I know he’d do the same. We still want each other around.’

‘And the angel?’ she said and Dean’s stomach dropped. He shrugged and nodded at the same time, his fingers twitching. 

‘Yes, but that’s different.’

‘I thought you said he was family,’ she frowned at him and Dean swallowed. 

‘He is but not like Sam,’ he said stiffly and she stared at him as though trying to unravel a mystery.

‘And you think because my brother is family, I should want him back,’ she said and Dean fought back a wince as her voice grew in volume.

‘I think you do already,’ his voice, in contrast, is softer but it still makes her stop and listen. ‘You said that you wanted him to pay but you are still looking for him. You want to see him again.’

She remained silent, as though thinking it over and Dean took a deep breath before he continued. It wasn’t something he liked to think about but right now, it could help.

‘I know, Amara,’ her name caught her attention and she stared at Dean intensely and he could feel his skin crawling and his hands desperate to reach out and his thoughts threatening to float right out of his head. ‘I could feel it – back at the beginning, in the meadow. You wanted to see him again, not just to punish.’

She was still silent but she turned away from Dean and the barn altogether and for a moment Dean thought he’d failed until he saw her shoulders relaxing. Her entire form relaxed, a sigh falling from her lips as though a great weight had fallen away.

‘I thought,’ she began, her voice stumbling but growing in strength as she continued. ‘I wanted to see him pay but I don’t… I don’t want him gone. I want his apology but…’

‘You also just want him,’ Dean finished gently and she whirled around to face him.

‘Yes,’ she said and the single word fell into the air between them, her eyes shining in a way Dean had never seen and it took him a moment to realise there were tears building. He nodded at her encouragingly and, after a moment, he moved towards her. She was watching him, confusion entering her expression but also a desperate something, as if she needed someone to just tell her it was going to be okay.

‘Okay,’ he said as he reached her side. ‘Do you know if you can find him?’

‘No,’ she said, and her voice was more fragile than Dean had ever heard. ‘He’s hiding himself from me.’

A flash of anger tore through Dean and he gritted his teeth. All this time the dickhead had known his sister was out here and free and he’d never bothered to help, either them or her. Because Dean could feel her now, clearer than ever, in the same way that she could feel him and his pain. It was a constant, festering pain that was sharp and cutting and Dean almost gasped with it. His own was burning aches and ice-cold fear that caused his torn open chest to pound but Amara’s was timeless and constant in the way only old, unforgiven wounds could be.

‘Okay,’ he said again. ‘Okay, I’m sure we can figure that out…’ he trailed off and slowly turned to face the barn. Of course.

‘Or we may have something.’

‘What do you mean?’ her voice was closer than he was expecting and he turned to face her but she was still where he’d last seen her. He then realised it wasn’t because she’d moved closer but her voice was stronger, no longer broken and open but determined and she turned to him, her eyes fiery. His small promise seemed to have helped her world rebalance and Dean ignored the ache and wash of longing. 

‘When your brother visited earth hundreds of years ago he left behind a few objects called Hands of God that all have a trace of his power. We thought that they could be used to find him,’ he said.

‘You have one of these Hands?’ she asked and Dean nodded. She nodded and seemed to steel herself before she began to move towards the barn leaving Dean to hurry after her. The barn wasn’t far away and they reached the door quickly. She reached out but before she opened it she looked over her shoulder at Dean and smiled at him. Something loosened inside Dean and he realised he could hear Sam through the wall of the barn and there were some birds fighting in a tree nearby and somewhere there was a car horn blasting distantly.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply and then opened the door.

She stepped through first, Dean following right behind her and it was Sam’s dumbfounded expression that Dean saw first. Eileen was standing right beside him, her face tight with worry. Just beyond them stood Lucifer. His expression was difficult to read with the fires shadows dancing over his face but he looked far from pleased. Rowena appeared frozen on her side of the room.

‘Dean? What –’ Sam began but Dean shook his head. 

‘It’s fine, Sammy,’ he said calmly, watching as Amara moved forward, her gaze fixed on Lucifer. 

‘Nephew,’ she said coldly and Sam stepped back, grabbing hold of Eileen’s arm as they moved away from Amara. Lucifer was staring at Amara, a nervous smile flickering in and out of existence.

‘Auntie Amara,’ he said. ‘What a surprise.’

‘I don’t believe that’s your body,’ she continued as if he hadn’t spoken and his face hardened. Sam turned to look at Dean, his eyes wide but Dean shook his head.

She suddenly raised her hand and Lucifer’s face tightened and he choked. Cas’s body began to tremble and Dean lurched forward. Amara turned to look at him and her dark eyes made him freeze in place and he could only watch as Lucifer shook, a bright light building behind his eyes.

‘Goodbye nephew,’ she said softly and Lucifer screamed and Dean closed his eyes just as a bright light exploded, filling the room before it faded away and there was silence, the only sound a single thud as something heavy hit the ground. Dean cautiously opened his eyes and noted immediately that the fire was out, wiped away by whatever Amara had done. It took him awhile to make anything else out, the brief blast of light he’d seen had hurt his eyes. Sam was also looking around, Eileen’s hand holding his as she stared at Amara. Amara was still standing where Dean had last seen her, her arm lowered now and her back to Dean and she stared at something on the ground. Dean looked down to see what she was staring at and felt his stomach lurch. 

His heart was pounding in his ears and his lungs ached as though the very air had turned to flames as he stumbled towards the body that lay still on the ground. The ashy imprint of six huge wings were pressed into the concrete around it and Dean’s knees hit the ground right next to them, his hands reaching out, one going to the throat, the other hovering above the chest. There was no movement.

‘Cas? Cas!’ there was no reaction from the body, no pulse, no breath. Dean’s hands were shaking and Lucifer’s words washed over him once more.  _ Castiel is long gone. You’ll never find him now. _ Dean stared down at the slack familiar face and felt something crack inside of him. Some part of him had been hoping that Lucifer was lying, that Cas was still there and Dean would find him again once they got Lucifer out. But now…

He didn’t know how much time passed before he felt someone next to him. A quick turn of his head proved that it was Sam as his brother stared down at Cas’s body, sorrow twisting his face. Dean turned to look back down and noticed that his hand had somehow found its way into Cas’s hair and was slowly stroking the thick dark locks.

‘He’s gone, Dean,’ Amara’s soft voice broke the silence and Dean flinched, his shoulders tightening as if to ward off any further blows but all he felt was a gentle hand touching his shoulder.

‘He can’t be,’ Sam whispered softly beside Dean who glanced at his brother before straightening his shoulders and, with one last gentle stroke of Cas’s hair, he got to his feet and turned to face her.

‘Bring him back, then. Your God’s sister – you must have the power to do that,’ he demanded and something softened in her face.

‘I would if I could, Dean. But the place Castiel is in now is not one I can reach, thanks to my brother’s designs.’

‘So that’s it?’ his voice was harsh, his throat closing up as he fought back tears and instead let his anger surge. ‘There’s nothing we can do? After everything Cas has done for us we have to leave him behind?’

‘I said there was nothing I could do,’ Amara said patiently and Dean paused while Sam’s sharp intake of breath behind him confirmed that they were both on the same page.

‘How?’ was all he said but that was enough.

‘The place where Castiel is locked away is one that has similar warding to the Mark. That is why I cannot slip past it. In a way it is warded directly against me, but not you.’

‘Where is he?’ dread was beginning to crawl along Dean’s veins and his stomach turned over. Sam was trembling, standing so close to Dean that he could feel it.

‘Castiel traded places with Lucifer,’ she said and Dean’s stomach dropped as horror gripped him. 

The Cage.

How long had Cas been down there? Weeks for them but for Cas that was years. He’d seen what that place had done to his brother and it had taken a long time and some angelic grace and intervention from Death, for Sam to be able to put most of that behind him. But none of that was here for Cas, that was even if they managed to get him out.

‘How the hell are we supposed to save him?’ Sam voice was rough, thick with memories he didn’t voice but something must have shown in his expression because Eileen moved forward and stood next to him, keeping her gaze averted from the body behind them and focusing on Amara, blade still in her hand.

‘There is a way,’ Amara said, her voice calm as she turned away from them and strode to where Sam had left the Hand of God. ‘You have something I lack that will help you. Perhaps the witch will be able to help you with that.’ She gestured to where Rowena was still frozen though she thawed immediately when Amara’s attention landed on her.

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ she began, her voice faltering but she fell silent when Amara turned back to look at Dean, her hand hovering over the rod.

‘You’re human Dean and as all powerful my brother and I may be, we lack something that you don’t. Something that is one of the most powerful things in the world. A soul.’

Dean frowned but judging by Sam’s sharp intake of breath and Rowena’s widening eyes, they at least understood what Amara was talking about.

‘But how will that help?’ he demanded but she only smiled.

‘Thank you, Dean,’ she replied, ignoring his question. ‘For helping me. I’m sorry I can’t do much more.’ She reached down and, carefully, picked up the rod, ensuring that the sheet wrapped around it didn’t slip. ‘If you need help again, do not hesitate to call for me.’

She smiled at him once more and Dean could only stare at her. Her face seemed lighter now, as though her new plan had reinvigorated her. Dean was startled to realise that he had no desire to follow her, his every nerve screaming at him to return to the body behind him instead. They all watched in silence as Amara vanished before them and none moved for several moments.

‘What the bloody hell happened just then, may I ask?’ Rowena broke the silence, her voice almost hysterical and it startled them all out of their shock. Dean turned to look at her, his mind blank for a moment longer before what Amara said hit him again.

‘What did she mean about a human soul?’ 

Rowena didn’t meet his eye but Sam spoke before Dean could ask her again.

‘Remember when we went back in time and met Samuel Colt? Bobby said that Cas didn’t have enough power to bring us back and was able to tap into Bobby’s soul to recharge,’ he explained and Eileen’s eyes widened.

‘Wait? We can use a human soul to break into Hell?’ she asked and Sam nodded.

‘Sounds like it.’

‘How?’ Dean reminded them and was surprised when Rowena answered.

‘There is magic. Old magic. Enochian actually,’ she said with a little nod towards Cas’s body. ‘It’s complex and dangerous.’

‘Can you teach it to me?’ Dean demanded ignoring how Sam turned sharply to face him.

‘Dean. She just said it was dangerous!’

‘And the Cage is dangerous!’

‘Exactly. Cas isn’t the only one in the Cage, remember. Even if Lucifer’s dead there’s still Michael and he’d probably still love to get in you,’ Sam yelled and Dean took a deep breath, the old familiar swoop of fear at Michael’s name not enough to stop him.

‘And Cas has been down there how long now Sam? I can’t leave him down there,’ he said, his voice softer than he’d planned and Sam stopped. They stared at each other for a moment, Dean imploring his brother to understand and finally, it seemed to get through to Sam who sighed, his shoulders sagging.

‘Fine, we’ll hear this enochian magic out first but if it’s too dangerous then we look for an alternative, alright?’

Dean bit his tongue and didn’t bother answering Sam. Instead he faced Rowena who was watching them with something approaching amusement, as if their bickering had calmed her nerves. She somehow managed to looked as if she hadn’t just been in the same room as the oldest creature in the universe and the devil who had killed her only weeks ago.

‘You want me to teach you angel magic?’ she asked and she was definitely fighting laughter. ‘Dear, even if I thought I could why would I? What’s in it for me?’

‘Seriously?’ Dean growled and Rowena raised her eyebrow.

‘I already helped you in case you’ve already forgotten,’ she gestured around barn and Dean snorted.

‘You set up a trap that was ever even used,’ he argued but she was shaking her head.

‘You asked me to make a trap for you. That was it. I believe you now owe me one, not the other way,’ she picked up her bag and Dean felt desperation claw at his insides. He reached for his gun but Sam was there holding his wrist.

‘Stop it, Dean. That won’t achieve anything.’

‘It’ll give me satisfaction,’ Dean argued, trying to throw his brother off.

‘We do owe her. That was the deal,’ he tried to remind him but Dean wasn’t listening. All he could think of was that Cas’s body was lying on the ground only a few feet away and yet Cas had never felt so far away.

‘Then how the hell are we supposed to save him!’ Dean’s voice rose until he was yelling and he managed to throw Sam off. Rowena had paused by the door and Eileen darted around her, unnoticed by any of them and was now blocking the door.

‘Answer him,’ she snapped, gun out and Rowena rolled her eyes.

‘I don’t carry that kind of information around on me,’ she said. ‘And I only know of it, not how to actually do it. It’s probably been lost or in a grimoire locked away somewhere.’

‘Can you give us a clue?’ Sam almost begged and she stared at him for a long while before sighing. 

‘You have to actually make contact with the soul in question – that’s how you draw its power. There’s probably a verbal command that enables you to hold onto that power,’ she explained. ‘Theoretically that is. I don’t know of anyone who’s tried in over a hundred years.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it burns away your soul. Humans aren’t made to use enochian,’ she said and Dean could feel Sam looking at him. ‘And if that’s all gentlemen, I shall be going. Don’t call for help again – though I will cash in that favour.’

‘Small favour,’ Sam called after her as Eileen stepped aside and Rowena smirked before leaving the barn.

‘So, now what?’ Eileen said after a tense silence and Dean looked over to where she stood, blade still held loosely in her hand. He couldn’t find any words in that moment. It felt as if everything that had just occurred had sucked something out of him and he felt numb, horror at the truth of Cas’s situation washing over him and leaving barely anything else behind. Instead of forcing himself to answer he turned away and walked slowly over to where Cas’s body lay. He knelt down slowly and after one last brief brush of his fingers through Cas’s hair once more, Dean shifted to allow one of his arms to slide beneath Cas’s shoulders, pulling his body into Dean’s lap.

He was too still, heavier than Dean had thought he would be. He was smaller, too, than Dean could ever remember him being and he was forced to close his eyes for a moment and just breathe, fingers clenched in the trench coat in an attempt to stop them trembling. Cas didn’t move. Because he wasn’t here, he was gone and Lucifer hadn’t been lying.

When Dean opened his eyes Sam was beside him and without saying anything the two got to their feet, carrying Cas between them, Dean’s hands under his armpits and Sam’s holding his calves. They didn’t speak as they made their way to where Baby was parked and they slowly moved Cas’s body onto the backseat. Sam left Dean there, staring at the body, his head at an awkward angle and his limbs loose and empty of life. Without looking behind him Dean slowly lifted Cas’s head and slipped beneath it. He closed the door and waited for Sam and Eileen. His fingers slowly wound their way through Cas’s hair and held on loosely. There was no movement beneath his hand and for all the times that Dean, half asleep and lonely, had thought of something like this, soft and warm in a way his life rarely was, Cas had never been still. He’d grumbled and curled closer and squinted and smiled that small, painfully gentle thing that Dean longed for so pathetically but he was never still.

Eventually Sam and Eileen came into view. They were walking slowly, each carrying a bag and Eileen was watching Sam’s face more often than the ground as his mouth moved. She smiled at him and they appeared to hesitate, unwilling to leave their own bubble and enter Dean’s broken and sharp one.

They both climbed into the front of car and nothing was said to Dean which suited him perfectly fine, all his words having vanished into the night. It was a quiet trip back to the bunker and half an hour later they were pulling up into the garage.

It was again in silence that they all got out of the car and Sam moved to Dean’s side once more to carry Cas’s body back inside.

Without saying anything they both moved in the same direction and five minutes later Cas’s body was laid down upon Dean’s bed. Dean stood at the foot of the bed and stared at him, at how small he appeared to be. Sam clapped him on the shoulder gently, jolting Dean out of his thoughts and he looked up at his brother.

‘We’re gonna grab some food and then check out how many books we’ve got on angels in the library, plus whatever ones Eileen brought.’

‘Sounds good,’ Dean’s voice broke, sounding more rough than usual after a car ride in silence.

‘Did you want to…’ Sam trailed off but his quick glance at Dean’s bed gave him away and Dean sighed. The body wasn’t him. It was merely the traces that he had left behind. Cas was somewhere else and sitting around staring at his empty shell would not bring him back.

‘No, I’ll come with.’

Eileen had apparently gone on a food run and returned half an hour later with two pizza boxes and a six pack stacked in her arms to find Sam and Dean in the library. She dropped the boxes at one end of the table, placed the beer next to them and sat down beside Dean. She grabbed the nearest book and a slice of pizza before joining them in their research.

Two books later, Sam and Eileen both bade Dean goodnight and told him to go to bed. Dean paid them little heed. He couldn’t go back to his room. Any shred of longing to just watch over Cas’s body had vanished and now he was filled only with a sick feeling in his stomach that the body was the only thing of Cas’s left behind and, as it became more and more obvious the longer Dean read, it wasn’t even Cas’s body.

The next morning Sam dragged Dean to his own room and forced him into the bed.

‘We’ll handle the research for a few hours. You need to rest, Dean or you’ll run yourself into the ground,’ he argued and Dean opened his mouth to argue but found there was nothing to say. He knew that Sam was right but having Sam order him around and look after him left Dean feeling unbalanced again.

It continued in this fashion for three days. Dean rarely ventured into his own room and only if he absolutely had to. The body wasn’t changing like a normal body but remained exactly as it had been when they’d first put it in there. Dean instead slept in Sam’s room for a couple of hours when his brother wasn’t using it.

It was late on the third night that Sam suddenly sat up straight. He frowned, reading the page before him intently before he looked around for Dean.

‘I may have found something,’ he said slowly and Dean put his own book down. It had been sometime yesterday that they’d given up on the angel books and begun looking through rare spell books. The one Sam held in his hands was old, the parchment yellowed and the covers edges fraying.

‘It says here that the power of the divine can be wielded by mortals,’ Sam read aloud and Eileen watched carefully, her own book discarded. 

‘The divine – that’s angels, right?’ she clarified and Sam nodded. 

‘Looks like it. It goes on to say how difficult it is and painful,’ he glanced at Dean as he spoke but Dean nodded for him to continue.

‘Does it say anything about souls?’

‘Yeah, actually. It looks like that’s the easiest part of enochian magic. You’re not actually trying to use the magic and powers of an angel. You’re just tapping into something that will give us a boost for whatever magic or action we want to take. In this case, entering the Cage. It’s not like we want to become immortal or use their smiting powers.’

‘That’s possible?’ Dean asked, pulling the book closer to himself and ignoring Sam’s exasperated look.

‘Yes, but not recommended. It burns up your soul to use enochian magic.’

‘Delightful,’ Dean grumbled, pushing the book back to Sam. ‘So how do we tap into a soul?’

‘There’s a spell in here that brings the human soul more to the surface, like when exorcising a demon – their true form rises up through the body. Unlike that however, your soul won’t leave your body. There’s an incantation here in enochian that enables you to tap into its power.’

‘What’s the catch?’

‘It’s incredibly painful,’ Sam said. ‘Apparently, it’s so painful it’s more likely to knock you out before you manage to tap into it. Touching a human soul and bringing it to the surface can drive a person insane.’

‘Pain and insanity,’ Dean repeated. ‘So the norm for us.’

‘True,’ Sam huffed a slight laugh before his smile faded. ‘Dean, you don’t have to do this.’

‘Yeah, I do. He’s down there and I’m not leaving him down there. Even if there was another way, this is the one we have and I’m not wasting anymore time searching for an alternative. We both know what it’s like in that place.’

Sam sighed and nodded before pulling the book closer and writing out exactly what they’d need. 

‘Lucifer said something about the Darkness cracking open the Cage. That’s how he was able to reach out to me and how Rowena was able to get him out. We’re going to have to focus on that mostly because getting you into the Cage won’t be easy.’

‘Stull,’ Dean said and Sam looked up. ‘We got to Stull – that’s where the connection is strongest.’

‘Right,’ Sam nodded. ‘Of course it’s going to be there.’ He sounded almost amused because of course their lives were that easy to direct. Because of course they would never be able to escape Lawrence completely. Eileen reached over and pulled the book away from Sam and read through it before nodding and looking up at Dean.

‘It’s time sensitive, bringing your soul forward so we’ll have to do all of this at Stull,’ she told him and Dean nodded. 

‘What do we have to do?’ he asked, nerves making themselves known for the first time.

‘It’s pretty simple in theory, the heavy lifting is left to you. We do the spell and then, if you’re able to fight through having your soul brought forward then there’s the second spell that will allow you to tap into it. The two spells are actually rather simple as long as they’re done right. We should have everything here, in fact,’ Sam explained.

‘Alright,’ Dean said quietly. ‘Let’s roll.’

It took two hours for Sam to collect everything. Dean and Eileen packed the car and carried Cas’s body back out to the Impala as Sam came out to the garage.

‘Ready?’ he asked and Dean nodded.

‘Let’s go,’ Eileen said and they all climbed into the car, Eileen in the passenger seat, Sam behind the wheel. Dean lifted the body’s head again and sat in the backseat. Three hours later, Baby’s wheels rolled over the dying grass that was overgrown around the broken gateway to the old boneyard. The ruts in the ground her wheels had created before had disappeared through time and growth. Sam let her sit idle for a moment before he switched off the engine.

None of them moved for a several minutes before Eileen opened her door, sparking Sam and Dean into action. Sam began to set up the first spell while Dean and Eileen marked out an area of five feet wide and surrounded it with a ring of holy oil. Eileen had an angel blade strapped to her side now and Dean spray painted a couple of symbols onto the dry earth around the ring of oil before giving her the match.

‘Hopefully it doesn’t burn the whole place down,’ he said and she smiled, eyeing the brittle grass around them.

Finally the first spell was ready. Sam slit Dean’s hand open and they watched as blood dripped into the bowl that Sam had set up while he chanted something in enochian. The mixture in the bowl appeared to grow brighter and brighter, more reminiscent of angel grace than anything else. Dean was squinting, his eyes watering with how bright it became when he felt a sharp tug in his chest. It faded almost immediately and Dean shook it off but in the next moment the spell hit him.

It felt like pure fire was tearing along his veins. He could hear someone screaming, could taste copper but none of that made sense. All he could focus on was the burning sensation as it spread inward from his toes and ears towards his chest. It felt like his insides were becoming liquid and Dean couldn’t breathe. His throat ached and his lungs couldn’t take in air.

He thought he could hear voices, someone saying his name but it slipped away as the flames appeared to grow stronger and stronger inside him. He was going to be a burnt out husk, there would be nothing left. It was too much. He could almost feel his skin drying out and splitting, his insides melting and leaking from him. 

‘-ean! Dean!’

A voice, louder this time, could be heard and something about it made him want to reach back. But there were shadows encroaching upon him now and they promised no more fire. This could all be over if he went to them. If only that voice would leave him alone.

‘You have to fight this! You have to, Dean! It’s the only way to save Cas – you said so yourself!’

The voice filled his ears, drowning out the sound of screaming and he realised that it was him who was screaming, and the copper he could taste was blood in his mouth and the sharp prickling pain in his back was the grass he was laying on. 

‘Dean!’

The spell and the fire and Sam. It was Sam’s voice he could hear and Dean forced his eyes open to be met with a blue blur above him ad something that resembled a brown smudge next to him. He turned towards it despite the flames tearing through him and slowly his brother’s face came into view.

‘Sa-am?’

His voice cracked and almost trailed off into nothing but it was his own voice and something in Sam’s face relaxed before he reached out and then suddenly Dean was moving and the world seemed to jump before him. Sam’s arm was around his shoulders and Eileen knelt on his other side.

And Cas. Cas, who was still trapped in Hell and Dean had to hold on. He had to push through this because there would be no other chance at this. Cas, who had faced the fiery pit of Hell for Dean before and now it was Dean’s turn because Cas deserved to be saved, even if he didn’t think so himself. And Dean wasn’t leaving this godforsaken cemetery without him.

He pushed himself upright in weak arms and nodded shakily.

‘Okay,’ he panted. ‘Next step.’

Sam seemed to hesitate for all of a moment before Eileen shoved the next part of the spell at him. He nodded and flipped to his translations.

‘Ready?’ he asked and Dean nodded before they lifted him up and Dean shakily made his way into the middle of the circle to where Cas’s body was laid out. The fire still raced through him but now that he was focused on Cas it felt more manageable.

Sam looked at him once more and when Dean nodded, he began to read out the next incantation. Almost at once the fires that had ravaged Dean’s insides felt as if they’d frozen. His entire body felt ice cold and then it was as if something heavy was pressing down on him and he felt something tingling his fingertips. He cast one last look at Sam who was staring at him with wide eyes, Eileen by his side, angel blade drawn and lighter at the ready.

And then the shadows crept up on Dean and something began to burn in his hands. His fingers clenched tightly around whatever it was and he felt as if he was falling, something racing through him as darkness rushed up around him.

The heat was horrific.

It wasn’t something Dean had ever really let himself think about and certainly the heat wasn’t the first thing his mind recalled when thinking about Hell. The blood and screams had covered that part up on the brief thoughts he allows himself to have.

The space where air should have been felt as if it was flaying his edges and despite having no need to breathe, he found himself gasping for air. The power he could feel racing through every inch of him, flared brighter and brighter the deeper he went.

A thunderous rattling noise caught his attention over the screams below and he veered towards. A flash of what appeared to be lightning suddenly lit up the cold, rough edges of what must have been the Cage.

He felt bile rise in his throat at the thought that it was in that thing that Sam had been trapped for far too long. The place where Cas was trapped now. This horrific place that had taken the two people that were dearest to him, who had both fallen into it willingly.

The closer he moved to the Cage, the more its power made him want to flee. The burning feeling became icy in a way the Pit had never been. It felt as if it was trying to slow his movements and everything appeared to be crawling now, as though time itself had slowed down, the screams, the flashing lights, and Dean gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue. 

His body hit the Cage and for a moment he felt that pulsing warmth in him shudder but he clung to it, refusing to let it sink back underneath and instead forced it to move him through the bars. Its pulses sharpened and he flinched back on instinct until his eyes adjusted to the shadowy area. He almost wished they hadn’t as he struggled to fully comprehend what he was seeing. His mind was trying to ascribe humanoid appearances to the creatures before but the images were shifting and slipping away with every second he stared.

The thing in the corner made him recoil and he couldn’t look at it any longer than to first note that it was there. It was a twisting, coiling thing that reminded him far too sharply of the Pit. The monstrous being moving next to the twisted thing sparked something in him, as if his very soul recognised the old threat. And it was not only he who recognised the other. The being was rising from its crouched position and turning to face him, its face a shifting jumble of images his mind couldn’t hold onto. He felt frozen in place, a primordial fear keeping his there, his grip on his soul flickering as it strained to escape from this creatures presence. He couldn’t look away as something he felt maybe once had been wings stretched, a shuddering mass of limbs that suddenly filled the space and made it difficult for Dean to think.

A sudden blazing heat reached Dean from the other side of the Cage and despite the intensity that made him want to flinch away, his soul seemed to stop struggling as something familiar in amongst the sudden heat reached him and soothed his raw edges. The rising monster opposite Dean halted as something smaller launched itself in between it and Dean. The new being was far smaller, limbs that may have been wings were torn and dragged on the ground, brushing Dean’s ankles. Its edges looked singed and something that resembled eyes blinked despite looking half blind, an unhealthy milky white mottling the majority of its body.

The brightness of these two beings had Dean half blinded himself yet he still moved forward, the familiarity of the smaller being triggering something in him and setting every nerve alight. His mind was screaming at him to just hold on and without realising it his hand had lifted and sunk amongst the shredded ruins of its wings. The smaller being jolted beneath his touch and his hand felt overly warm, as though it was too much for Dean to hold, something that could burn him away if he touched it for too long. His fingers curled inward and he felt the too warm, too sharp, too familiar thing, and he tugged as if that could be enough to bring him back.  _ C’mon. We need to go. We need to get out. I’ve got you. Cas. Cas – I need you. _ There was no movement; the blinding creature held itself still and Dean clung to it, his soul burning and he knew he didn’t have the strength to pull him out of here.  _ Please, Cas. Please. _ After another long moment of stillness, the sharp edges finally,  _ finally _ , pressed against him. Reaching back slowly, its shifting shape twined itself between Dean’s fingers and along his arm, inching closer and closer to his shoulder.

The larger monstrous being screeched, a high-pitched shriek that left Dean’s head ringing and he screwed his eyes shut against the pain. He focused on the warmth that was now wrapped around his shoulder, and it felt like his skin was burning, a familiar feeling that he’d forgotten about until now. Maybe it was being back down here, or maybe it was the bare touch of grace against him but he could remember the first time, in sudden sharp clarity, of grace wrapping around him and pulling him away from where he’d collapsed in the Pit upon seeing him for the first time in all of his glory.

Now it felt as if the grace was burning through his skin all over, sinking deeper into his soul and Dean felt a lurch of power race through him and he tightened his grip before pulling away, the fresh burst of borrowed power lending him the strength to pull them both out. 

But as they moved, that familiar heat pressing close against Dean, he noticed its body was oddly contorted, curling in on itself and Dean felt a flash of worry at the thought that he was injured, that maybe he wouldn’t survive the trauma of their escape. He wasn’t given anymore time to think about it as an ear-splitting screech of rage rocked him backwards, tugging Cas closer against him, as Michael moved forward to stop them. Something that Dean’s mind morphed into claws stretched forward and he felt fear take hold of him again as he tried to pull them out of reach, moving far too slowly to escape an archangel, no matter how broken.

Bracing himself for the blow, Dean was startled when Cas jerked in his grip and before he could quite comprehend what was happening, Cas seemed to grow brighter in front him and the air seemed to close in on them, a sudden static feeling running along Dean’s body. Cas’s form was trembling, his grip on Dean not loosening for a moment, as he turned his focus on Michael. Dean tensed and then the Cage was rocked, as what felt like an explosion was released and Michael was screaming and Cas was burning, a blinding light filling every crevice of the Cage and Dean shut his eyes and clung to Cas, desperately pulling them away. His body sunk between the Cage bars and for a moment he was terrified that despite Amara’s reassurances it hadn’t worked and then all form of resistance vanished and Cas was pressed up against him again and Dean launched them away from the Cage, his mind focusing solely on getting them away from the shaking Cage and the screams that echoed from all around them. He couldn’t think about anything else too closely, about how near Michael had gotten, how the heat of Cas’s grip seemed to be fading and the weight of his inhuman shifting body seemed to be lightening the further they moved. Dean could only cling to him and to his own soul and focus on bringing them back to Earth.

 

It was the brightness of the sun on the horizon that Dean first registered, blinding him after the odd flashes in Hell. The hard earth beneath his knees and the rough grass pressing against his legs brought him a better sense of security. He breathed deeply until he realised his hands were empty and his eyes flew open. 

Sam was kneeling in front of him, holding onto his shoulders and when Dean suddenly lurched forward he cursed and held on.

‘Dean! Slow down,’ he gasped and Dean’s gaze leapt from Sam’s face to the surrounding space around them, desperately searching. ‘It’s alright. You – you did it.’

‘What?’ Dean asked distractedly and Sam shifted slightly, his grip on Dean’s shoulder directing him to look to just behind Sam where the painfully familiar body was laying. Dean pushed aside the lingering dizziness he felt and crawled past Sam to his side. He could feel his brother hovering but his focus was fixed on the body in front of him. His chest was rising and falling with each deep breath he took, his face relaxed and his hand warm when Dean shakily reached out to brush his fingers over the back of it.

‘He’s okay – I checked,’ Sam said quietly and Dean sighed, his shoulders lightening after all this time. ‘I think he’s recovering. After all that he’ll probably need some time.’

‘We’ve got time,’ Dean said softly, and Sam’s hand found his right shoulder and squeezed gently. After a moment of hesitation, painfully aware of his brothers’ presence, Dean slid his fingers into Cas’s palm, his other hand slowly rising to his forehead where he gently brushed his hair back, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers.

They remained where they were for a while, Dean needing time to fully realise that they were okay, they were all here and breathing and safe. Sam squeezed his shoulder again, Dean feeling vaguely grateful that it wasn’t his tender left shoulder Sam was holding onto, and then climbed to his feet. He walked over to where they’d left the Impala, by the run-down gate and Dean turned back to where Cas was sleeping. He reached down and slowly slid his arms beneath Cas’s knees and shoulders, pulling him into his lap where he held him for a moment, breathing evenly, before he slowly pushed himself to his feel. He staggered under Cas’s weight for a moment before he managed to catch himself and he pulled Cas tighter against him, smiling slightly when Cas’s head came to rest against his shoulder.

He made it to the car, though his knees were shakier than he’d like to admit. Sam was holding the back door open, as Eileen quickly packed up their things, and together they got Cas onto the backseat. Dean gave his fingers one last squeeze before he pulled out and, after making sure his feet were tucked inside the car, he closed the door. Sam held out the keys to him but Dean shook his head. 

‘You drive, I’m exhausted,’ he said. It wasn’t a lie, he  _ was _ tired. His limbs felt heavy with a weariness he rarely felt so strongly. It just wasn’t the whole truth. Sam probably knew, after the last few weeks but thankfully didn’t say anything, aside from a brief smile at Dean. He climbed into the driver’s seat as Dean made his way around the car, to the other back door. He gently lifted Cas’s head off the seat and slid under it, letting his head rest on his thighs as he turned to close the door as quietly as he could. Sam twisted the key in the ignition and Baby came to life underneath them, her gentle growl rumbling along her frame and into their bodies. Dean relaxed into the seat as Sam pulled away from Stull’s gate, and Dean let his hand fall to Cas’s dark hair, his fingers weaving through the soft strands as he looked out the window to see the bloody light of the rising sun spill over the earth around them.

The sun had climbed steadily in the sky by the time they reached the Bunker. Sam and Eileen both climbed out of the car first, smiling at one another as their shoulders relaxed. Dean smiled at the sight of them before he turned back to the sleeping angel in his lap. He smiled at her before turning to the still sleeping angel in his lap. Or perhaps, not angel. Dean had only seen Cas sleeping a couple times over the years they’d known each other. Once, when the apocalypse, their first, was hanging so low over their necks they had all almost given up and Cas’s grace was almost non-existent. And once, in a shabby motel room up north. Cas’s wrist had been bandaged after a quick trip to the A&E and after Cas had remained silent on where to go Dean had just driven them straight to a motel, the two crappy beds in the cramped room almost painful to sleep in, not because of the shitty mattresses but because Dean hadn’t been able slept, feeling Cas so close despite being in the other bed.

And now. Now Dean didn’t want to wake Cas up, his fingers still moving slowly through his hair. He reached over with his other hand and opened the door. He slipped out from under Cas before turning back and he pulled Cas gently upright. After a few seconds of manoeuvring, he pulled Cas back into his arms and slowly stood up, making sure Cas’s head didn’t knock against the door frame.

Eileen and Sam moved forward, grabbing the bags from the trunk and pulling the door open for Dean. They followed him down the stairs into the war room silently where they dumped the bags.

‘Dean, do you want anything to eat?’ Sam asked, his voice almost painfully gentle and Dean couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let Sammy see his face right now. He felt cracked open and raw and needed to hide away. He shook his head and Sam didn’t try to deter him. ‘Alright, we’ll leave some left overs for you.’

Dean nodded and then continued to his room. Cas was heavy in his arms and though his arms started to protest, Dean didn’t dare hurry up in fear of waking Cas. They made it to Dean’s room where he proceeded to slowly put Cas down on the bed.

He looked so small suddenly, with the bed empty on either side of him. His coat seemed to dwarf him and Dean fought back the sudden ridiculous urge to wrap himself around Cas and just hold on.

Instead, he reached down and gently pulled the coat off of Cas, folded it up and put it on the desk chair. He then removed Cas’s shoes which went on the floor beside the bed followed by his socks. His bare feet were so pale, the bones standing out finely and Dean’s mouth felt oddly dry at the sight of Cas’s ankles. They looked almost delicate in the half light of Dean’s room. The arch of his foot seemed to catch the shadows of the room and his toes looked almost childish, painfully soft, so easily breakable. That urge to just protect Cas returned, stronger than before and Dean forced himself to swallow, hindered as he was by his dry throat.

He pulled Cas’s suit jacket off and then his fingers hesitated for a moment before he quickly undid Cas’s belt and unlooped it from around his waist.

The exhaustion that had been bottled up over the past few weeks suddenly hit Dean and it took all of Dean’s strength to remove his boots and jeans before he collapsed onto his bed beside Cas. Turning so he was lying on his side, Dean blinked blearily at Cas’s figure in the dark until his eyelids slowly slid shut.

Dean woke slowly the next day, his body pleasantly warm and the bed soft beneath him. There was something heavy resting over one of his ankles and something else over his waist. The room was dark from what Dean could tell without opening his eyes and he remained where he was, content to drift in and out of sleep for a little while longer. It wasn’t until something soft brushed his nose that Dean realised something was different. He forced his eyes open and blinked to try and adjust to the darkness until a jolt tore through him as he realised what – or rather who – was holding onto him.

Cas had turned in his sleep and now had one of his arms wrapped around Dean’s waist and a leg thrown over Dean’s effectively pinning him to the bed and holding him there. His head was tucked under Dean’s chin, his soft hair brushing his cheek and nose. Despite his initial surprise Dean relaxed once more and closed his eyes, bringing his own arm up from where his fingers had been curled loosely into Cas’s shirt and instead wrapped it around Cas’s shoulders, pulling him in closer.

He remained like that, even if he didn’t fall back to sleep until the combination of his stomach growling and his bladder screaming at him forced him to untangle himself from Cas’s limbs. He watched as Cas grumbled a little, a small frown marring his otherwise peaceful sleep as he curled into the warm spot Dean had just vacated. With a small smile Dean left the room.

After a brief detour to the bathroom, Dean made his way to the kitchen where he found the coffee pot empty. With a quick mutter under his breath he filled it and saw to making something to eat. By the time the coffee was ready, he had a plateful of bacon and toast ready to take back to his bedroom. After pouring his mug full of coffee and picking up his overflowing plate Dean turned to leave the kitchen and almost walked into Eileen who was just entering.

‘Sorry,’ she gasped, stepping back just in time as Dean’s breakfast narrowly avoided ending up on the floor.

‘That’s alright,’ he said making sure nothing was in danger of falling off the plate before he looked up at her to smile. When he caught sight of her Dean paused before his smile grew until he was grinning at her.

‘Sleep well, did we?’

Eileen laughed, no sign of shame on her face as she darted past him, wearing one of Sam’s oversized plaid shirts over a pair of pyjama pants. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, barely covering up the fact that it had been messed up by another pair of hands.

‘Definitely,’ she said, flashing a smile at him over her shoulder as she popped several slices of bread into the toaster. She turned around to face him properly and leant back against the bench. Her grin softened but didn’t vanish as she eyed him.

‘And you?’

‘Better,’ Dean said, honestly. She nodded before nodding to his breakfast.

‘Is he awake?’

‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Probably will when he smells this.’

‘Don’t want it getting cold, then,’ she said and he smiled.

‘Nope, so I’m off. Say hi to Sam for me,’ he said and she laughed again.

‘Will do.’

The walk back to his room felt shorter than he knew it actually was, and soon enough he was pushing open his bedroom door. Cas was still curled up on his side, one of his hands stretched out and holding onto the sheets Dean had left twisted and warm.

Dean felt another smile growing on his face and he inched into the room as quietly as he could. He slipped back onto the bed, being careful to not knock Cas as he settled down. He leant against the headboard and sipped from his coffee before making a start on his breakfast. He almost jumped when he felt Cas press against his leg but when he looked down Cas was still asleep, his face smooth in sleep, no sign of a frown.

Dean made short work of his breakfast and once he’d put his plate aside, sipped at his coffee and, slowly, reached out to run his fingers through Cas’s hair. He stilled, worried he’d woken Cas when he stirred, mumbling a little in his sleep before he pressed even closer and Dean smiled, his fingers resuming their path through his thick hair.

It was just as Dean was finishing his coffee and reaching over to put it on his plate that he felt movement again and this time he looked down to see Cas’s eyes blinking open as he turned to look around blearily. He caught sight of Dean’s face, looking down at him with a smile and his shoulders relaxed before he seemed to realise he was hugging Dean’s leg to his chest. He quickly moved his arms and moved away and though Dean didn’t say anything, the sudden space between them left him feeling cold.

‘I… Dean?’ his voice was more rough than usual and Dean forced himself to smile and focus on Cas despite the odd jump his stomach had just made.

‘Hey Cas, how’re you feeling?’

‘Better, I think,’ he said, his voice rather hesitant. Cas pushed himself upright and leant against the headboard beside Dean. There was still a foot of empty space between them.

‘You feeling recharged?’ Dean asked and Cas looked away from him, his gaze dropping to the sheets below him.

‘No.’

He spoke so softly that Dean almost didn’t hear him. When he realised what Cas had said he frowned and twisted his body until he was facing Cas front on. Cas still didn’t look up at him.

‘Cas? C’mon, talk to me,’ he tried and Cas slowly looked up, his gaze darting away from Dean’s face every now and then but at least he was looking up. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘I mean, I’m not “recharged”,’ he said, his voice starting out louder before trailing off, even as he put finger quotes around his words. Despite the rather endearing motion - and fuck,  _ endearing _ ? Fucking finger quotes – Dean didn’t smile.

‘So, what? You need more time? That’s fine, just rest up until –’

‘No, Dean. I’m not recharged and I will not recharge. I don’t have any g-’

Cas cut himself off sharply, his gaze dropping again and Dean felt his face go slack. He didn’t say anything for a moment and instead stared at Cas, whose shoulders were tense and his gaze fixed away from Dean.

‘You don’t have any grace?’ Dean asked, his voice soft and Cas shook his head sharply. ‘Did the Cage take it away or Mic-’

‘No. I did.’

‘What?’ Dean’s voice trailed off and he could only stare, wracking his brain for what Cas could possibly mean.

‘When you grabbed hold of me, Michael realised what you were doing and went to attack you, to prevent you from leaving. Whether to kill you or try and possess you, I don’t know. So I used the last of my grace to stop him. It held him off but there was nothing left.’

Dean could remember now. In the twisting memories he had of the Cage he could remember the large blinding, sharp creature moving towards him and Cas and the sudden explosion of light that rocketed between Cas and Michael before he and Cas had fled.

‘You’re human now?’

‘I know I’m not much use as a human – I barely was as an angel, but I can still help Dean, I swear I’ll learn.’

‘Wait, what are you talking about?’ Dean stared at Cas who had looked up and finally met Dean’s gaze. His blue eyes were wide and his face pale. His body was tense and there was something in Cas’s face that Dean couldn’t place for a moment but when he did it made his stomach churn and he almost brought back up his breakfast.

Cas was scared of him.

‘Cas,’ he said, making sure his voice was quiet. ‘You… We –  _ I _ don’t need you to be here to be useful. Is it nice having extra back up on cases? Yes. But that isn’t why I want you to stick around.’ Cas was still staring at him and while the fear seemed to have subsided for now, the confusion on his face was almost worse.

‘Look Cas, I don’t care if you’re at full powers with wings again or human and all you want to do is watch Netflix and eat me out of house and home, okay? The only thing I care about is that you’re here, because you’re family, okay?’

‘You don’t care if I can’t heal you anymore or smite demons?’ he asked slowly and Dean’s chest ached.

‘No. I just want you to stay because… you’re my best friend Cas. Superpowers or not.’

Cas’s eyes looked suspiciously wet when Dean finished and Dean’s throat was far tighter than he’d wanted. They were silent for a long moment. The only things Dean could hear was their breathing and his own racing heart. He’d never opened himself up so much but Cas’s absence had cracked him open and now it was all spilling out. He could feel his control over his tongue and thoughts fading.

‘You’re my best friend, too,’ Cas said, his rough voice quiet and gentle and Dean felt like crying. He’d known. Or he’d hoped. Why else would Cas have stuck around for so long? And while Dean had sometimes let himself hope for something  _ more _ this confession was enough. Without saying anything else Dean finally gave in and breached the empty space between them, his arms wrapping around Cas and tugging him closer. Cas came without any resistance and soon they were wrapped around each other, Cas’s arms around Dean’s waist and Dean’s arms around his shoulders and lower back. Dean tucked his face into the crook of Cas’s shoulder and held on, allowing his eyes to close and he breathed in and out, Cas alive and warm and soft in his arms.

Dean paid no attention to how much time had passed since he’d reached out but he knew this hug had gone on far longer than any other they’d ever had. Still, he was reluctant to part and judging from the way Cas was clinging to him, he wasn’t alone.

Finally, Dean knew they had more to say, to discuss how Cas was led to believe he was just a tool, why exactly he had said yes and everything that had followed. He gently pulled back, smiling when Cas grumbled. He didn’t move too far away, reluctant to let go of Cas even if they did need to talk. There was far too much that had been left unsaid between them for too long. Despite Cas’s grumbling Dean sat up, keeping his arm around Cas’s shoulders.

‘So, you’re human now?’ he asked and Cas nodded. ‘Are you good with that?’

‘I think so,’ Cas said slowly. ‘While my time as a human wasn’t easy I preferred it to being an angel again. I don’t want to be like that anymore.’

‘So, you’re alright with this?’ Dean asked again, wanting to make sure. Apparently, miscommunication between them was pretty high and he wanted to fix that.

‘Yes, I am,’ Cas said and he smiled at Dean who couldn’t stop himself from returning it.

‘You hungry then?’ he asked and laughed when Cas frowned before nodding. ‘We better go get you something to eat.’

Dean led the way out of his bedroom, one hand carrying his dirty dishes and the other holding onto Cas’s sleeve. The angel-turned-human still seemed a bit shocked at the turn of events, or maybe that was just Dean, either way he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

He made Cas sit at the table once they reached the kitchen and fetched him a fresh mug of coffee while refilling his own. With that in front of Cas, Dean turned to getting some food together and he figured toast was the safest route. It was with a sinking stomach that Dean realised he had no idea what food Cas even liked aside from hamburgers. Shaking those thoughts off Dean focused on not burning the toast and decided to also fry up a couple of eggs. The dude had been asleep for over twelve hours after going through a huge ordeal. He’d definitely need his protein.

Once everything was done he placed the plate in front of Cas and sat down opposite him. Cas slowly bit into the toast and, as if enjoying the sudden burst of flavour from the jam Dean had liberally spread on it, quickly ate the rest. Dean waited silently, sipping at his coffee and smiling as Cas demolished the plateful of food. He caught sight of Dean’s smile and his own small smile graced his face and Dean felt ridiculous grinning at an ex-angel across the table as he ate his breakfast.

Cas pushed his plate aside once done and Dean took a deep breath. Better to get this done now.

‘Did you really think I wouldn’t want you around if you weren’t an angel?’

His voice was quiet, unwilling to break the peace of the moment but knowing it was necessary. Cas stilled, his mug halfway to his mouth and he lowered it slowly, his eyes fixed on its path before he glanced up at Dean.

‘I thought that you appreciated my powers and what I could do for you perhaps more than just… me.’ Cas’s voice was gentle as if trying to not anger Dean and Dean felt again that pathetic longing cracking open his chest and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and covering one of Cas’s hands with his own. Cas’s eyes widened as he stared at Dean who offered him a shaky smile.

‘I’m not gonna lie and say I didn’t think your powers weren’t useful but they weren’t why I wanted you here. I already told you why. But… I think I get why maybe you thought that. I certainly wasn’t quiet about expecting more out of them. And… I’m sorry Cas. I think. Sometimes,’ Dean hesitated, the words not coming as easily as he would have liked but then Cas twisted his hand from underneath Dean’s until it was lying palm up and his fingers could curl over Dean’s and give him a gentle squeeze. ‘Sometimes I reckon Sammy and I get so tangled up in our own lives that we forget about everyone else. And we shouldn’t. Neither of us would be here without you. I know you’ve helped keep me sane over these past few years. I’m sorry for making you think we didn’t care about you. You’re our best friend, my best friend. And…’ Dean’s voice trailed away despite his best intentions and it felt as if something was reaching up from his chest and strangling him, stopping his words from even entering his mouth. Cas must have seen something in his face to convey his struggle because he smiled reassuringly and squeezed Dean’s hand again.

‘I know, Dean. You’re lives aren’t easy and maybe now I can be a better hunter.’

‘Hell yes,’ Dean grasped the new topic eagerly but still couldn’t bring himself to extract his hand. 

They sat in silence and Dean looked down at their entwined hands. This was stupid. Dean had literally just managed to get Cas back from Hell itself and now they were sitting here holding hands and he still couldn’t say  _ it _ .

‘I’m glad you came for me, Dean,’ Cas said and Dean looked up at him, his face painfully open. 

‘So am I,’ he managed, his voice breaking as he spoke. ‘There was no way I was leaving you there. I kinda owed you,’ he added with a smile and Cas laughed. Dean stared, transfixed, as Cas’s eyes crinkled and he beamed, a deep, rough laugh falling from his lips and it was the best sound Dean had ever heard.

‘We’re even then,’ Cas smiled. ‘How poetic,’ he added with a wry smile and Dean nodded. 

‘Guess the world can be at times,’ he said and Cas looked down at their hands.

‘Of all my orders I was ever given that is one I will never regret,’ he said and Dean felt his chest tightening.

‘Really? I mean, you ended up here in the dirt when you used to belong to a much better club.’ Even as Dean spoke he could see him again, the Castiel that still haunted him. The broken shell of the warrior Dean had first met, high on more drugs than Dean could count, gun in hand and willing to follow Dean to deaths arms. Looking at Cas, so human and breakable now across from him he could feel the old fear creeping up on him once more. He’d caused this. Cas was human because of him.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘What?’ It took Dean a moment to realise what Cas had said.

‘I don’t think I belonged to a better club. A different one but not necessarily better,’ he stared at Dean thoughtfully before he spoke again. ‘Did I ever tell you what was my favourite place in Heaven?’

Dean shook his head but remained silent. Cas so rarely opened up and despite the fear souring Dean’s stomach he didn’t dare interrupt.

‘You know Heaven has many different parts to it. The individual human Heavens, the Garden, the garrisons. And out of all of these places my favourite was a park.’

‘A park?’ Dean frowned, confused enough that his fear eased for a moment.

‘Maybe it was more of a garden than a park. It was the personal Heaven of a man who had drowned in the fifties. It was a huge garden full of flowers. It was peaceful.’

‘Your favourite place in all of Heaven was some dude’s garden?’ Dean asked and he knew he sounded too incredulous but Cas merely smiled.

‘Yes,’ he said simply and Dean could only stare. ‘I don’t consider a life on Earth a downgrade at all, Dean. Especially a life spent with you.’

The kitchen was silent. Or maybe it wasn’t and Dean just thought that because his ears had filled with a rushing noise and could make nothing else out. Cas was watching him almost carefully, still holding Dean’s hand and it hit Dean all at once how stupid he was being. This angel now human had literally yanked him out of Hell and he had turned around to do the same thing because somewhere in between, he had realised he not only needed Cas but  _ wanted _ him to be here, so badly. His chest felt as if something had split inside it from his absence and the air had gotten in and it would ever get out now. Cas was sitting here, holding his hand and wanting to spend his life with Dean. His best friend was holding his hand and wanted to stay for all of his life.

Dean’s knee hit the table hard as he lurched to his feet. Cas looked startled, his smile sliding off his face as Dean suddenly seemed to loom over him. With his sharp movement, Dean’s hand has slipped out of Cas’s grip and he forced himself to get around the table. His knee was throbbing, his feet seemed to be made of nothing and Dean felt as if he would fall over at the slightest touch. He somehow made it around the table and collapsed into the seat next to Cas who was staring at Dean with wide eyes. His mouth was slightly open and Dean reached out to retake his hand, despite how clammy his palm was now. Cas didn’t seem to mind as his fingers curled around Dean’s as if on instinct.

‘Dean?’

His voice was quiet and Dean reached out with his free hand and placed it on Cas’s cheek, feeling the beginnings of stubble prick at his palm as it slid higher, his fingers sinking into Cas’s hair and Cas was staring at him and all Dean could see was blue. And Dean slowly leaned forward.

There was no lightning or exploding lights, but they had had enough of those in their time together. It was soft and gentle, Cas still for a moment, a moment that felt as if it had stretched on forever as Dean wondered if he’d misread the situation after all. But then, with a slight gasp, Cas pressed forward and then they were kissing and all thought fled Dean’s head aside from the fact that it was Cas who he was kissing. Cas whose free hand curled into the front of Dean’s top and pulled him even closer.

They parted to breathe and take stock of the situation and Cas’s eyes seemed darker this close up and Dean couldn’t stop smiling. To stop himself from laughing he pulled Cas in for a longer, deeper kiss, only pulling apart when they heard a noise from the doorway. To Dean’s horror Sam and Eileen were standing there, clearly having cleaned up as Eileen was now in her own clothes, and they were both smiling.

‘Enjoying yourself, Dean?’ he asked with the painfully smug grin of little brothers all over and Dean glared at him.

‘Could ask you the same thing, Sam? Or did you actually get some sleep last night?’

Sam’s cheeks flushed slightly but Eileen laughed.

‘Only a little,’ she said cheerfully and Sam went an even darker shade of red.

Dean laughed and turned to Cas who was smiling but looking a little bemused, his lips darker than before.

‘Cas, this is Eileen Leahy. She’s a hunter we met a few weeks ago. She helped us get you back,’ he said and Cas’s smile warmed.

‘Hello,’ he said and she smiled at him.

‘It’s nice to finally meet you,’ she said and they were both smiling at each other and Dean felt something in him settle, finally, as if whatever stone had been digging into his sole had vanished and he could finally walk safely, sure that the earth had resettled and would now hold him up. Sam moved forward, a bright smile on his face as reached down and hugged Cas.

‘It’s good to have you home, man,’ he said and Dean watched as Cas closed his eyes and hugged Sam as well as he could in his current position.

‘I’m glad to be home,’ he said softly and Sam pulled away, still grinning and Cas looked over at Dean who smiled helplessly back.

It was good to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed that. Again a huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fallenandthefaithless.tumblr.com/)!


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